Mile High
by OverzealousGuineapig
Summary: Jacob works as a private pilot and gets hired to fly the Hale family to London for a week. Complicated issues ensue. AH/AU/OOC/Vio/Lang/Lemons/CharacterDeath.
1. Chapter 1 Cockpit

**Mile High**

**Chapter One**

_**Cockpit**_

My identity has been replaced.

Not in the legal sense, but by my job title.

"Pilot, my daughter is asleep in the bedroom, so could you try not to be too loud or climb too fast?" white haired, suit-wearing Charles Hale asked, making the question sound like more of an order.

I internally rolled my eyes. "Well, this _is _an airplane, so a certain degree of noise is going to occur, but I'll try not to rev the engines for fun."

He completely missed the sarcasm in my voice.

"Thank you," he said, nodding dismissively.

I eagerly headed to the cockpit without bothering with my usual pleasantries: "_I'm Jacob Black, your pilot for today; hopefully we have a nice flight together. Once we reach __altitude, I'll__ come back and see how everything's going._"

Leaving the cockpit before landing was _not _on my list of things to do on this flight.

I pulled open the door to my sanctuary for the next few hours and slipped in—locking the door before sighing happily.

If I had a happy place, this would be it.

"A-hem," a throat cleared behind me.

My sanctuary had been invaded.

I spun around, and my eyes went wide. There, in the co-pilot's seat, was Charles Hale's most prized possession. His blonde-haired, blue-eyed, stunningly gorgeous daughter, naked, with my uniform hat on.

I could do nothing except openly gape at her.

My heart was pounding one hundred and twenty beats a minute in my chest. Not only because she was without question the hottest woman I'd ever laid eyes on, but because I was fired and possibly arrested the moment she decided to come in here.

"I looked all over the plane, but I can't find the form," she said innocently, like that was all the explanation I would require.

I swallowed hard. "Form for what?" I choked out.

She looked up at me and smiled a little. "To induct me into the _Mile High_ club," she purred.

All the air vanished from my lungs; my heart paused in its frantic beating. I plopped back against the door hard, cracking my head on the metal frame.

_This is not really __happening,_ I told myself. _You've inhaled jet fuel fumes._

"Get dressed," I ordered, while pulling myself away from the wall. "And leave my… _the _cockpit."

"Leah Clearwater." she said casually, toying with the ends of her hair rather than fulfilling my demand to get the fuck out.

My teeth clenched, and once again, the air abandoned my body.

Leah Clearwater, youngest daughter of NewYork financier, Harold Clearwater.

The nineteen year old socialite had crossed paths with me a couple of weeks ago when she and her rich bitch friends needed a pilot to take them from Miami to Manhattan and back again because, "_Miss Sparkle can't be expected to go out on the beach without this season's bikini!_"

The _dog _didn't have its bikini, so they rented a private jet at three a.m. to go and get it before appearing at the MTV beach house later that morning.

"What about her?" I growled as the frustration came back to me.

"She told me I could expect a certain quality of service on this airline. Well, with this pilot, really." She looked over the tarmac as she spoke, watching the luggage being loaded onto an identical plane to mine.

Did I mention I fucked that little Pomeranian loving, anorexic princess on the way back down South?

Apparently, she'd felt the need to share that sordid little detail.

"And you can," I agreed. "You can expect the highest level in quality of care with me. First and foremost: safety. And to make sure this flight is as safe as possible, my attention needs to be on the flying itself. Not on you."

"You don't really care about repeat business, do you?" she questioned, indifferent.

"Only from good, low maintenance customers."

"Like Leah?"

"No, not like Leah," I muttered while sliding into my seat to give her an open path to walk out—when she eventually got the message and left, that is.

"She'll be interested to hear that. _King Quality Airlines_ pilot trash-talks client. I'm sure everyone will be rushing to book a plane then."

"Sounds more like a headline than gossip." A nervous twist began tightening in my stomach. Charles' little angel apparently wasn't above blackmail.

"Well..." She shrugged lightly, glancing over to me for a moment. "You know the tabloids. Anything the young and famous do or say is front page news these days."

"And she may just _mention _that in front of the wrong people?" I surmised. My eyes dropped to the floor as it really sunk in how severely fucked I was fast becoming.

It was then I noticed the clean floor—not unusual under normal circumstances, but it raised the question of where her clothes were.

"There's no such thing as bad publicity," she replied coolly. "Although, if there were, this would definitely be bad for you."

"Miss Hale—"

"Rosalie," she interjected.

"Where are your clothes?" I continued without acknowledging her, "_Call me Rosalie._" line.

"In the cabin," she answered. "I can leave if you like; I'm sure Daddy will understand why I'm coming out of here… naked." She stood up, exposing herself to anyone looking through the windshield.

I reached for her arm, but stopped myself; she was probably the sort of girl to scream at the drop of a hat. "Wait!" I hissed.

She stopped and turned back to me, arms folded and nothing done to cover herself.

"Why do you want me fired? Or imprisoned?"

"I don't."

"So what the fuck are you doing?" I waved my hands across the space, looking at her with wide eyes. She couldn't possibly think this wouldn't get me into trouble.

"Having fun. And making it up as I go along." Her lips curved up in a playful smile. "I just want you to have fun with me."

I scoffed. "Naked?"

"Everything's more fun when you're naked."

My eyes flickered over her toned skin and long, lithe muscles. _Oh the fun I could have with _her_ naked body_, I thought to myself. "Sit down, put your harness on, and start trying to figure out a way to get back into that cabin—without being seen—and clothed again."

"You're asking me to _stay_ in your, sorry, _the_ cockpit now?"

I didn't answer her while strapping myself into the seat. She sat back down and secured herself behind the five point harness as well without another word, just a smug twitching on the corners of her lips.

_Here goes the most trying flight of my career._ I taxied out onto the runway, glancing at her once more before lift-off, and then sighed hopelessly. _I'm a dead man._

:-:-:-:

"Don't touch _anything!_" I barked the instant her hand moved off her leg.

Rosalie held her hands up in surrender. "Fine. I'll try not to breathe, either."

I snorted callously. "That'd be nice."

She rolled her eyes and exhaled, sounding mildly irritated. "Why haven't you put the auto-pilot on?" she inquired.

I looked down at the gauges and various compasses that were directing me through the continuous blue sky. Sight or a map would do very little good up here; there weren't any constant landmarks, and the ground or sea below was no help, either—apart from the odd distinctive sky scraper or uniquely shaped arena.

"Because I don't feel like it," I answered. Again, my thoughts switched back to her parents on the other side of the door. The body numbing panic washed over me again, and I shifted in my seat uncomfortably.

"How are we meant to have any fun when you're flying the plane?"

"We're not," I replied instantly.

She exhaled sharply. "C'mon, please? I can't get back into the cabin now, so can't you just relax and accept that I'm here?"

"No. Miss Ha—"

"Stop calling me that. My name is Rosalie," she snapped with more irritation than the first time.

"Why does it matter?" I asked.

"I'm not just _Miss Hale_. I'm an individual."

I smirked a little as it clicked in my head. "You don't like being your father's daughter. Being a Hale pisses you off," I stated.

"So what if it does?" she hissed.

"Whoa, just chill out, okay?" I laughed a little; she shot a glare at me. "So if you don't like being Daddy's little princess, then why do you slip right into the role?"

"Would I be here now if I were into the role?" she retorted.

"I guess not." I shrugged. "So why pretend?"

"Why not?" she asked back.

"Maybe because if it's not who you are, then you must be miserable?" I suggested.

She quirked her eyebrow at me, and then looked out over the clouds. "Who said I'm not miserable? Everyone is."

"I'm not. Well, I wasn't until you snuck in here and got me fired in doing so. Now I'm very miserable."

"Stop saying _miserable_."

"Stop _talking_."

She made a 'tsk' sound and looked away.

:-:-:-:

"Look, I'm gonna run us into some turbulence up here, so when I put the seatbelt light on, go back into the cabin and get dressed," I said, after about an hour's silence.

It hadn't been _tense,_ but it certainly wasn't comfortable. Mostly, she just kept sighing and huffing like a child about to whine out, "I'm boooored."

"Whatever," she muttered coolly.

_Don't do it! Don't fucking_— "Why don't you want to leave?" _Idiot! Couldn't just keep your mouth shut._

"Because quite frankly, my parents make me want to rip my ears off and blind myself."

My head snapped over to her as she spat out the words maliciously. "Why? Your dad's a self important pain in the ass, but your mother hasn't said two words to me since we met."

"Lucky you," she mumbled. "You spent, what, twenty minutes with my dad. Try twenty years. You might think my mom's quiet, but what she does say always seems to be a negative critique. I figured, maybe you might be a bit more entertaining than a plane ride with them, but I guess not."

I looked back out of the vast blue sky, closed my eyes, and then let my head fall forward. "Come back," I whispered.

"Huh?"

"Get dressed, and if you can get back in without being seen, then come back," I told her a little louder.

She huffed and unlocked the harness. "I don't want your pity."

"Yes, you do." I scoffed loudly, "Why else would you have told me that shit about your family? However, I do not pity you; I never take pity on people for something they do to themselves, and in lying about yourself, you've done that. I'm inviting you to come back because, perhaps, I'm in the same position of boredom, and I thought maybe you would be willing to entertain me, as well."

As I heard myself lie, I couldn't help but wonder what it was that I did actually pity her over. She _had _put herself in this position by pretending to be someone her father approved of, instead of herself.

But for whatever reason, I didn't want her to go out there and be—there's that word again—_miserable_.

"So you want me to come back for what you can get from me?" she asked, and stated at the same time.

"Isn't that why _you_ want to come back? To be entertained by me?" I shot back. She sighed again and pursed her lips. "I thought so. I can give you four minutes, two of which are going to be very bumpy, so you might wanna hurry the fuck up, get dressed, and get back in here. I'm not above begging you to be careful, though. It won't end well, for anyone here, if you get caught leaving."

"I'm aware of that. I don't really want to have to sit in this plane for the rest of a seven hour flight with my father if I get caught." She stopped right before the door, and I flicked on the seatbelt signs button.

"_We've hit a little bit of __turbulence. I__ need you all to please sit down and put on your seatbelts until the sign goes off. __Thanks,_" I said into the microphone, using the fucking preppy voice we were supposed to use when flying. Apparently, sounding like an amateur actor was reassuring.

I waited around thirty seconds, and then gently turned closer to a convective cloud. The plane bounced a little, and I told Rosalie to go while I held it steady so I didn't get too close.

My sanity was now questionable.

No mentally stable pilot would deliberately seek out a dangerous situation. So clearly, the girl had sent me a touch crazy.

**Hey, guys. I'm back as you can see. For sneak peeks and pictures head to overzealousguineapigstories dot blogspot dot com. I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions ;D**


	2. Chapter 2 Autopilot

**Welcome back my lovely readers on this fine Saturday/Sunday depending on where you are. I myself am in Sydney so it's midnight and just clicked over to Sunday, January 2nd 2011. Why the hell does it matter to you what time it is where I am? Well, because if you find yourself enjoying this story then you'll want to know when it will be updated. My current plan is for this time every week**—**or two if something intervenes with my schedule. But regardless, it will always be midnight on Sunday for me.**

**Without further chit chat, I present...**

**Mile High**

**Chapter Two**

_**Autopilot**_

Three minutes later she slipped back in and locked the door again. "I'd have been back sooner but I _fell over_, thanks for that."

I laughed quietly, mental images of Rosalie falling over awkwardly in the tiny sleeper cabin flashed through my head. "You lived. Sit down."

Now clothed in a skirt and short sleeved top, she slipped into the co-pilots seat and locked herself back in. I pulled away from the line of clouds and the plane almost instantly became steady.

"I just put us all in danger, in case you didn't realize that already. You'd better have some kind of comedy act up your sleeve to make it worthwhile."

I could feel her looking at me for a minute but I didn't look away from the sky. She spoke after taking another moment to consider her words. "What did the heiress say to the pilot?"

"Induct me into the _Mile High_ club?" I guessed, technically she had said that already.

"Oh, so you've heard this joke before?"

"It rings a bell."

"Damn. Um, have you heard the one about the bicycle riding nuns?"

I shook my head.

"Two nuns were riding their bikes down the cobblestone driveway from the convent. One nun says to the other: _I've never cum this way before_."

"You're terrible." I chuckled.

"I went to an all girls school that focused on religion and love of one another. We knew every nun joke around." she explained.

"Naw, poor you." I teased.

"Poor me." she agreed with a smile. "They get worse. The nun jokes."

"Well don't make empty promises." I encouraged her.

"Four nuns were killed in a car accident. When they got to heaven Saint Peter was waiting for them at the gate. He said: _Ladies please confess your sins so you can pass through the gates. _The first nun says: _Saint Peter, I must confess that I once saw a man's penis._ Saint Peter tells her not to worry and that washing her eyes out with holy water will grant her forgiveness. The second nun moves forward and says: _I must confess that I once touched a man's penis._ Saint Peter tells her that that is truly a sin but that if she washes her hands in holy water she will be forgiven.

"While this is happening the third and fourth nuns are a few feet away yelling and cursing at each other. _What's the problem, Ladies? You shouldn't make so much noise near the gates of Heaven, _says Saint Peter. _WELL!_ says the fourth nun. _There is no way I'm going to gargle holy water after her ass has been in it!_"

A choked laugh broke free. "There's something twisted about you."

"_Something?_" she questioned.

Conceding, I nodded. "Okay, a lot."

We both laughed for a few seconds, she stopped first and I could see her looking at me inquisitively for a long moment after before eventually speaking.

"Can I ask you for one thing?"

I hesitated. She didn't say I couldn't say no if I said she could _ask_. "What?"

"The truth." she replied, looking down into her lap briefly before returning them to me.

"Sure." I agreed with a sigh.

"Do you _want_ me? It's not a vanity thing, I'm honestly curious."

I could _hear_ the curiosity in her voice and whether or not she was lying about the vanity thing I knew she was at least partially telling the truth.

I looked over and gave her the: _you're joking, right?_ expression while I looked her up and down. "Yes. I want you. You're hot and my dick works. Of course I do."

"Good, because I was starting to think something had changed and I wasn't attractive anymore."

I laughed loudly. "You _have_ seen yourself recently, right? If I wasn't attracted to you there'd be something wrong with _me_."

"So you _would_ have sex with me? If it weren't clashing with the best interest of the plane." The cockiness had returned to her voice now. No so much that it could be classed as arrogant or obnoxious but still…

"Yes." I mumbled, exhaling slowly.

She seemed pleased with that. "Okay."

"But it wouldn't be safe so no, we're not going to. Just accept that now." I reminded her; she laughed.

"So, hypothetically, if I got up right now," She ignored the second word out of her mouth and unlocked the harness, standing up in the small space of the cockpit. "And then I," Her leg slid across my lap to the floor on the other side; I took my right hand off the yoke* for a moment as she moved over me then grabbed it again, one arm on either side of her. "Sat in your lap. What would you do?" Rosalie asked, now looking me right in the face from just inches away.

I looked down to her legs, exposed completely from the bottom of her short, wide pleated skirt down. It wasn't so short it was tacky or slutty, but still enough that it made me throb under her.

After swallowing and forcing my eyes up I shrugged. "I'm not sure." My voice was a little croaky but nothing overly embarrassing as I looked at her light blue eyes.

"You don't think you'd have the will power to push me away?" Her head tilted a little to the side and a small, victorious smile formed on her dark pink lips.

"I guess not." I answered.

We stared at each other in silence. I couldn't figure her out. What her motives were or what the goal she seemed to be trying to accomplish was—beyond the obvious sex in a plane thing.

"Put the auto-pilot on." she suggested again, still staring at me unblinkingly—like a hypnotist.

If I did then my hands would be free and they'd most likely end up on her. That would be bad.

Wouldn't it?

I could see down her shirt in my peripheral vision, not that I hadn't already seen her breasts naked, but the way her bra pushed them up and together made a little squeak form in my chest. And now they were _so_ close rather than just in the same room.

She placed her hands on my chest and moved them up to the collar of my uniform shirt. "C'mon." she encouraged, smiling a little.

Everything in me was screaming _yes_ but my head was acting as if it wasn't connected to my body and was firmly saying _no_, to think about the plane instead. Behind her back, my hands moved across the memorized buttons and pressed the right one. The plane was now flying itself, just as the AFCS* promised it would. Of course, there was no difference between me piloting or the machine so Rosalie didn't even notice the change.

It wasn't until my hands touched her back that she realized I wasn't holding the yoke* anymore. My fingers sunk deep into her smooth flesh as I took hold of her waist and slid her further forward until her weight was pressing down on my crotch. I knew she felt me just as I could feel her; her warmth melted in with mine as she sat astride me.

Her hands moved right around to the back of my neck and pulled me closer to her face just centimetres from mine then she stopped and waited right there. She wanted me to actually make a move, but I wasn't going to give it to her that easily.

"Don't you want it?" Her warm breath breezed over my face and I looked down quickly from her eyes to her lips.

_As if you don't know,_ I thought brusquely then grabbed her ass with both my hands to distract her for the half a second it took for my lips to connect with hers. I had to throw her off balance and take the reins of control.

Another two or three seconds passed 'til she regained focus and pulled my head harder towards hers, her legs clamped tighter around my thighs and she leant closer to me. It was so fucking obvious she wanted it just as bad as I did.

Rosalie's tongue hit my lips suddenly. The soft flick of the tip over the sensitive skin of my upper lip almost made me gasp but instead I parted my lips for her and met her tongue with mine when it reached into my mouth. Her lips were soft and slick, rubbing against mine to cause the friction we desired.

Her fingertips started trailing back down my neck and around to my throat then grabbed the front of my tie to pull it loose then open. When it was completely free she pulled it from around my neck and tossed it towards the door. The buttons of my shirt were popped open one after the other without her even looking down, using only a well executed flip of her hands.

We broke apart to breathe but her hands didn't stop. Soon my shirt was open and she was pushing my jacket over my shoulders and down between my back and the seat. I took my arms out as she moved lower, only briefly disengaging the contact between us, then my hands returned to the supple curve of her hips.

Once more we were connected at the mouth. I gathered the hem of her shirt in my hands and pushed it up to expose her soft lower stomach then started feeling around blindly for the seam of her skirt. Buttons, a zipper, anything to get it open.

Why on earth I'd told her to get dressed at all I didn't know.

My fingers moved over the small clasp of the skirt zipper on her left hip and I fumbled a bit to get the tiny piece of metal between my nails so I could pull it down. It came open easily and I quickly gathered the skirt in my hands then took it off over her head so she wouldn't have to move off me.

By the time I looked back her hands were working my belt open and with a long pull of her right arm the whole thing slid from the loops and was dropped on the floor beside the chair.

She looked back to my face, smiling triumphantly in the brief second our eyes met.

_Smug bitch, she knew she'd win._ I smirked too as I watched her hands open my pants then pull my cock out into her hands. I lifted my ass a bit and Rosalie tugged my pants down a little more to my thighs then settled herself again.

Wasting no time, she curled her hand around my hard on firmly and began pumping the full length. Just a few seconds later the blood was pulsing through my veins and I tossed my head back into the chair.

"Ugh! Shit." I groaned.

I reached out for her blindly until my hands found the soft warmth of her hips then I quickly pulled her closer to me. It was primal instinct now, nothing I had to think about. I had to be in her.

Rosalie continued her actions, spreading the pre-cum over her hands every few strokes to make them glide easier—not to mention more effectively.

I untied the little cords on the hips of her panties, pulled the fabric away and tossed it over the side of my chair. A quiet breath sucked in her nose at the cold air touching her body.

I took her hands off me and pulled her hips closer still. She braced her hands on my shoulders then pushed down against me and her mouth cracked open as the warm, slick skin was pressed together.

"Mm, Jacob." she whispered and pressed her nails into my shoulders further. Both our hips started naturally rocking, trying to get the pressure we each craved.

I felt the head of my cock pressing against her entrance each time she moved forward before sliding back to rub against her clit. A little whimper left her throat and I held her tight again to keep her in that position.

She looked up to my face again, meeting my eyes properly for once. Right now she didn't look conniving or shameless. I pushed into her a little bit, waiting to make sure she didn't protest before continuing in deeper. Her eyelids fluttered as I pushed further, right into her until I hit the end and she finally gave in to her body's yearning to shut her eyes.

Warm. Soft. Tight. Wet. Great.

All the thoughts running through my head suddenly switched to one word sentences. Descriptions of what my body was feeling.

Great.

... too great.

"_Fuck._ I don't have a condom." I hissed under my breath.

Her eyes opened and settled on mine. "I'm on birth control."

"That's not what I'm worried about. That's what morning after pills are for."

"Well, I don't know about you but I get tested after I sleep with a new person. Which will include after you when I get back to New York. This isn't really a turn on."

"Neither's syphilis." I rebutted.

She cracked a small smile then looked down. "Well it's done now. I didn't see any syphilis sores so I think we're good. You're worried about me, I'm worried about you, with both of us worrying we'll never get around to doing anything for us to worry about."

Just as I was about to respond she tightened her muscles and slid back up then pushed down again and moaned as I refilled her. "Besides, isn't that worth a little curable sore?" She rocked her hips back then moaned again when her clit rubbed against my pubic bone.

"Oh, fuck, yes."

I hadn't meant for it to come out sounding so helpless but when she pushed down again and rotated her hips I just didn't care.

Quickly as I could, I pulled open the tiny press studs holding her shirt shut then slid it off her shoulder, briefly causing her motions to stop.

She tossed the shirt over towards the door then reached behind her neck and pulled the knot holding her bikini-type bra up. It fell down, exposing her breasts once again, then with a quick tug of the second knot on her back she was completely naked and one of the bra cups was quickly stuffed in my mouth.

I looked down then back up to the amused expression across her face.

"In case you find it difficult to stop obsessing." she explained with a smirk.

I didn't spit the bra out like I normally would have, instead, I replaced my hands on her hips and began to increase the tempo of her movements.

Unbalanced for only a second, she soon matched my rhythm thrust for thrust.

It was only a few seconds before she gasped in a pleasured breath and yanked the fabric from my mouth herself so she could kiss me.

Her hands tangled in my hair, nails biting at my scalp just as her teeth were on my bottom lip.

In turn I sucked both her top and bottom lip before placing one more kiss on the both of them and twisting away a fraction as my hips began lifting to meet her on the down thrust.

Rosalie pulled harder on my hair and her body tightened all over. Her arms went taut and her posture locked.

"Mmmm, yeah." She looked down and watched me enter her over and over.

My climax was approaching, the air was electric, I could feel her right there with me. Pound for pound, claw for claw, every droplet of sweat that had now gathered on each of us was in perfect synchonization.

Our skin smacked together, damp and warm. Then suddenly—right as I'd started for her lips again - long, sexy moan beat me there and she came.

Her hands went stiff in my hair and her whole body throbbed around me. Two more hard thrusts later and I came as well, gripping her hips so hard I left bright red marks as I held her to me and revelled in the feel of her fluttering muscles.

She remained still on me for another minute while we both caught our breath. I looked up to her face and she looked back for a second before chuckling softly under her breath.

"So,"she exhaled on a soft pant then laughed a little. "What now?"

I laughed once as well and shrugged. "I don't know."

**So I'm a bit of a smut-whore and I didn't make you wait twenty-eight chapters for them to get it on. I hope it was to everyone's standards. Let me know.**

**And FYI: A yolk is the term used for whatever steering device a particular plane has. They vary in appearance and overall function. AFCS stands for Automatic Flight Control System. For the lazy or horny pilot :P**

**For story pics and sneek peeks of the next chapter go to my blog; there's a link on my profile under my homepage or just go to overzealousguineapigstories dot blogspot dot com if you prefer.**


	3. Chapter 3 Technical Difficulties

**Don't worry too much about the aviation chit chat in the beginning unless you like being a know-it-all. Which clearly, I do. I've done my research but don't use it as a guide because I don't **_**actually **_**know what I'd talking about. I know, shocking, right? :P**

**Enjoy !**

**Mile High**

**Chapter Three**

_**Technical Difficulties**_

"Fuck!"

"Ow!"

"Shit."

"You're crushing me."

"Sorry."

"Ung, my hair."

"Sorry." I quickly apologized again and twisted around so my shoulder wasn't pinning Rosalie's hair against the wall.

... I elbowed her in the ribs during the turn...

"Argh! Fuck!" she groaned, holding her left side.

"Shit, sorry." I apologized again and put my hand over hers.

"It's okay." she accepted automatically but I couldn't tell if she really meant it just didn't care.

"Have you seen my tie?" I asked, scanning the cockpit from where we were both squished into the only standing room—right by the door.

"I dropped it down the other side of the seat." she replied while awkwardly trying to do up the ties of her bra.

I turned her back towards me, careful not to take her out on the corner, and wordlessly tied the material together for her.

She turned back when I was done and gave me a quick smile of appreciation before sliding her shirt back on. "How long 'til we land?" she asked.

"About five hours." I answered, slidding back into my seat and retrieved my tie from the floor.

An irritated 'tsk' sound followed my words and I knew the huffy princess was returning.

"Can't you make it go faster?"

I rolled my eyes and re-tied my tie. "No, I can't. If I go lower or higher than I am now I'll use too much fuel which is just stupid and it'll take _longer_. The lower you are, the thicker the air, which makes you use more fuel to fly through it at high speeds. Going higher would not only make the flight longer but it takes a shit load of fuel to climb, not to mention staying that high. Right here is what we call the _sweet spot._"

I saw her frown out of the corner of my eye and when she spoke again her voice was full of skeptism.

"How can going higher or lower make it longer to travel in a straight line?"

"Well the earth is round—you did know that right?"

She didn't respond but a loud huff told me she was irritated by that.

"So if you follow a circle closer to the center it will be smaller. The further out you go, the bigger they get." I explained, _trying_ to keep the condescending tone from my voice. "It's 'easier' to fly at this altitude for the distance we're travelling. The longer the flight, the more justified it is to climb to a higher altitude. Right now we're at twenty-five thousand feet, we could go right up to twenty-nine thousand but as it happens there's a cross breeze up there that we'd have to fight against where as here there's actually a nice backwind that's blowing us in the right direction. It a lot calculations but the end goal is a safe, fast, fuel efficent trip and that's what I'm doing now. Unfortunately I can't stomp down on the gas for you."

"Why do you talk to me like I'm an idiot?" she snapped.

"Well you ask idiotic questions. Do you really think I'd drag this flight out any longer than was necessary? Besides, I didn't dumb down my explanation as to why I couldn't so if it came out like that then maybe _I'm _the dumb one who _can't _explain things like a rocket scientist."

"Maybe." she repeated.

"You understood what I said?" I inquired.

"Yep."

"Good, then that discussion is finished and there's no reason to talk anymore."

"Fine."

"Fine."

I could feel her eyes linger on me for a few more seconds then with a dry, nasal laugh she looked off to the right and fell silent.

:-:-:-:

"So how are you going to spend your week in London? You have family or friends there?" Rosalie asked casually after over an hour of silence.

I'd been half hoping she'd talk for the past fifteen minutes, simply to break the silence, but I wasn't certain enough that I _wanted _her to talk that I'd initiate it myself.

But, the question was simple enough, so I answered it.

"No family. I know a few store owners in the area I usually stay in when I'm in the country but no friends either. I'm not really here all that much. France, China and Japan are more popular. There's always something new to see, I suppose, but sight seeing isn't really a hobby or pastime I enjoy either." I shrugged indifferently and looked over to her face, finding the curious expression I'd already grown familiar with.

"Why would you pick this as a career if you don't like sight seeing?" She looked across to me, patiently waiting for my answer.

"Well, I like flying the plane. This is my hobby of choice. I can't really afford to just do it for the sake of it so I got a job where I get paid to have fun. It's not that I don't enjoy the travel; I realize how lucky I am that I get to see all these places, but, I guess I'm not _'impressed' _by the world." I paused for a second then laughed as it dawned on me how I sounded. "And apparently I'm an ungrateful motherfucker and only just realized. I sound like a pissy rich kid. No offense." I laughed again.

Rosalie smiled, amused as well, but still rolled her eyes. "You still haven't answered my question about what you _are _gonna do." she reminded me.

I realized she was right and started controlling my laughter a bit more. "Um, pretty much just live like usual. Eat, sleep, watch TV, probably get laid again. UK girls go _bonkers _over the American accent. Oh, and apparently we give better head—so I've been told. Can't say the same for them but then again, what's the definition of a good blowjob? I've only met one girl who can completely satisfy me purely from a blowjob and she's stupidly in love with a complete moron so she's sort of off limits now anyway."

"Is the moron you?" Rosalie asked with a wide smirk instantly etched into her face.

I shook my head. "If it were, why would I be staying away from her? No. She's my best friend from childhood."

"Your best friend gave you head?"

I laughed again. "Why do you think she's my best friend?"

"So you grew up together then one day she just randomly put your dick in her mouth?" She asked, seeking further clarification.

"She's quite straightforward. We were watching Big Momma's House at her place one day then she suddenly crawled up into my lap and started making out with me for no apparent reason. Long story short, by the time the credits came, so had both of us and that pretty much set the ball rolling for half a decade of commitment-free sex."

I could tell she was judging but she clearly didn't see the similarities between herself and Vanessa.

_Come to think of it, that explains quite a bit of why I didn't really push her away when she actively began manipulating me. Huh..._ I shook it off then focused back on her more clearly.

"How do you do that? Have sex with someone repeatedly and still feel nothing for them? Once or twice is one thing but for five years."

My lips tightened rather than opening to answer her. It wasn't like I _didn't _feel anything it was just... "Um... it's not a case of _not _feeling anything. I love her. It's just more like how you love your sis—... best friend. We just have sex occasionally. Well we used to anyway."

"Not anymore?"

I shook my head. "Nope. The infatuation and all that. It's awkward being with someone who you know would rather be with someone else."

"I can imagine." she said.

I turned and flashed her a quick smile. "Yeah. So what are _you _gonna do for the next week."

"I decide that as I go along. A holiday's all about spontaneous decisions and lack of obligations. I don't know anyone in England so there's no one to please or consider but myself."

I didn't plan it, really, but before I could stop it the words rocketed from my lips. "How's that different from New York?" I scrunched my face up as soon as I heard myself speak then cautiously peeked out after a long moment. "Sorry, habit."

She didn't look overly irate but the small glare was enough to make me feel guilty for teasing her—even unintentionally.

"_Actually_, I'm always having to do shit I don't want to. It's pretty rare that I don't have to worry about my decisions effecting others."

Apparently my mouth had violent diarrhea because, again, the words came out without my permission. "Did you think about how it would effect me when you came in here?"

"Yes," she answered promptly as if she'd been expecting it. "And I came to the conclusion that should I stay in here that you'd be fine. I left it up to you to decide what would happen otherwise. If you kicked me out then it was on your head if I got caught. I planned it so _I _wouldn't get you in trouble. Whatever you did that ruined that plan, well that's your issue."

"Well you're just lucky I didn't walk in, see you, and go off. I'd have been in no way at fault if I'd exposed you the second I found you."

"I had to take that chance, and it paid off. Besides... I saw the look on your face when you came in, you couldn't have spoken let along thrown me out."

I exhaled roughly, annoyed. "You're so arrogant." I muttered.

"You're so paranoid."

"You piss me off."

"You piss _me _off."

"This is _my_ plane."

"And it's _my _father paying for the fuel and for you to fly it."

"You're right," I agreed with a nod. "And that's _all_ he's paying for."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" she snarled through her teeth.

"Whatever you took it as." I replied.

"Why does everything turn into a fight with you? Are you _completely _incapable of carrying on a normal conversation? I was just talking to you like a regular person, and fucking insult me."

"Well maybe you should leave." _Wait, what? No!_

"Maybe I should!" Rosalie agreed then undid her harness and stood up.

_Don't go, don't go, don't go, don't go! _No matter how much I pleaded in my head I just couldn't manage to say it outloud.

With total disregard for who might have been outside the door, Rosalie pulled it open and stepped out then slammed it shut again. I flinched, knowing there was no way her father hadn't have heard that.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I growled and banged my palm against my forehead with each word.

"_I'm all right, I just twisted my ankle a little. I need a glass of water._" Rosalie responded to a question I hadn't heard.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen... Fourteen... Fifteen...

... Nothing.

I waited a few more seconds in thoughtless silence for Charles Hale to burst through the door with a steak knife in hand to slash my throat, and when he didn't I was left in my stupor for several _more_ seconds.

Maybe there was a rational part—correction, fragment—of her that realized that the situation was caused by her actions. Maybe she wouldn't _try _to get me fired, arrested and imprisoned.

_Unless something _actually_ happens when we land, just drop it. It was a booty call, a one... hour stand, nothing more and now it's over, _I decided.

I took a deep breath then let it out roughly, rolling my shoulders in circles for a moment. "It's over now." I whispered to myself encouragingly.

_Heh, yeah right._

Not even I believed myself anymore.

**Jake and Rose fighting from the day they met. Doesn't it just give you a warm, fuzzy feeling inside? *giggles* Yeah, I'm deranged, I know. But it's still amusing/cute.**

**Things seem to be remaining on schedule and I'd just like to thank those who still review even though they already know roughly when the next chapter will be coming. It means a lot :D**

**Pics and sneek peeks on my blog as always. Let me know what you think, overzealousguineapigstories dot blogspot dot com**

**Reviewer Question of the week: Where's the strangest place you've got it on?**


	4. Chapter 4 Hotel Room

**Mile High**

**Chapter Four**

_**Hotel Room**_

"Heathrow, this is King Quality Airlines flight 287 requesting permission to land." I fought the urge to sigh as I said the preppy name of the airline. If they didn't pay so well I'd punch my boss for being so arrogant, and then fly for American Airlines or something normal.

"_Who?_" The voice over the radio asked.

My eyebrows instantly pulled tight together. "I didn't stutter." I replied.

"_Bullshit._"

"That's a negative on the bullshit. Who the hell is this?"

"_This is London Heathrow, what seems to be the problem, 287?_"

"There's a moron in the control tower."

"_287, the only moron around here is the one currently flying your plane._"

"Jared, shut up and tell me where I can land." I instructed, no longer wanting to play along.

A loud laugh started through the radio. "_South runway. You're no fun anymore, Jake._" Jared decided and his laughing toned down.

"They say that happens with age." I set the plane towards the south runway and kept it on a steady decline. "How'd you know it was me?"

"_No one else flying for a private airline sounds embarrassed to say the name. Plus, ya know, your remarkable zest for life is unmistakable._"

I rolled my eyes quickly and then put down the landing gear. "I've gone from eight in the morning to eight at night in seven hours. I've lost five hours from my day so I hope you'll excuse my lack of enthusiasm." _And I've been thoroughly fucked by a _very _enthusiastic heiress during that seven hour period._

"_Suffer, Jake, suffer in your jocks._" he cackled semi-seriously. "_What could be so bad about your life?_"

_Nothing if you don't count the possibility of me being fired or arrested. _

I didn't respond, instead focusing on the plane as it touched the runway, bounced back up a little, then settled. I taxied it to the departure zone then waited while the ground crew wheeled the stairs over.

Like it or not, I had to leave now and be civil to _all _passengers.

"I'll talk to you later, Jared. I've gotta go kiss some ass right now." I told him.

"_Do what you do best, man._" he approved then the radio was silent.

_Don't be a fucking pussy. What's gonna happen is gonna happen whether you go out now or later. _

I grabbed my ridiculously stiff uniform at and stood up then took a long, deep breath. Possibly the last as a pilot. As I let it out I pulled the door open then stepped out into the hallway.

Passing the door to the sleeper cabin had never been so unnerving, or taken so long. I half expected Rosalie to step out. But she didn't.

I got to the end of the narrow hall and reached the door right as the flight attendant and the Hale's walked around the corner. Charles gave me a stiff nod and his wife remained silent and unimposing just behind him. Rosalie looked over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised ever so slightly as she gazed back at me.

Obviously nothing too bad had been said by her because none of them looked particularly irrate.

I took another breath, feeling my head settle at the same time.

"I suppose you did a satisfactory job. We all survived the flight. Thank you." he praised in an uncaring monotone.

I wondered for a brief second how he would in fact have reacted if he knew what had happened during the flight.

Would his lid have completely blown off? Or would it have been more of an _im_plosion?

"You're welcome." I replied then turned my attention to his daughter. "Did you get disturbed from your sleep, Miss Hale?" I asked, keeping my voice completely innocent.

Her jaw pulsed when I used the title but she managed to cover it almost instantly. "No. Actually, I had the most bizarre dream—"

Charles cut her off nearly immediately. "Some things should remain private, Rosalie." he barked as if she'd just told me she wasn't wearing any underwear.

My mouth pulled tight and I bit back a laugh. Sharing her made-up dream was hardly personal now. I looked back to her and saw she too was fighting off a laugh behind her parents back.

_Maybe she's not so bad after all._

:-:-:-:

"_Room service._"

I frowned and went to open the door. "I didn't order—" The words stopped when I saw Rosalie standing on the other side of the door with a sexy smile on her face.

"Didn't order what?" she asked.

"Room service."

"Oh, well this is complimentary." She waved her hands over her body. "Where should I put it?" she asked, walking into the hotel room.

"Return it."

"You're going to hurt my feelings eventually," she stated casually, looking around at everything for a couple of seconds before turning back to me. "You know, if you keep rejecting me."

I shut the door and followed her into the living room. "I hardly think I've rejected you. Resisted unsuccessfully, but not rejected."

She turned and smiled at me. "_Unsuccessfully resisted_. You sound like a diabetic in _Baskin-Robins_."

"You don't think you're a little dangerous for my health? You could have got me shot on the plane." I reminded her.

We both sat down, on opposite couches, facing each other. She was now wearing a pair of hip-hugging khaki cargo pants with a white scoop-necked shirt. More covered than when we arrived and certainly more than when we left New York. Her hair was still loose but looked like she'd showered since we'd gotten all worked up and sweaty on the plane.

"But what's life without a little risk? I don't even think it would be life, just existence. And what do you think you would have been shot with? You of all people should know that weapons are banned on planes."

I hummed, low and rumbly, in response.

It suddenly dawned on me how relaxed we both are when she's not meant to be here. Her father was probably looking for her after more than a minutes absence from his sight—possibly having alerted the police already.

"Where do your parents think you are?" I asked, interrupting whatever it was she was saying.

"Um, shopping, the whole reason I came, why?" Her face turned confused and she slouched back into the plush sofa.

My body relaxed a little, it was passable, _probable_ actually if she was even half like the girl she seemed to be. "So they haven't set MI5 on your scent?"

"No." She chuckled once. "Don't worry, a SWAT team isn't going to smash through the windows and gas us out."

I snorted dryly, looking at the window as I pictured black swathed government agents swinging through the shattered glass from ghost choppers outside. While smiling at that thought I also realized just how dark the sky was outside, night had completely fallen. My mind was still in America where it was only five in the afternoon. "Your parents think you're shopping at ten o'clock at night?"

"They think London is safer than New York so they don't mind as much. I'm over eighteen so they don't really have a choice; all they can do is worry and chew me out when I get back home." She shrugged indifferently and then waited for me to talk again.

I exhaled gently and leaned back into the couch as she was. "Rosalie, what are you doing here?"

"Room service." She smirked again.

"Room service? You've got a job here?" I chuckled once at the idea of her working at all, let alone waiting on people.

"No, this isn't Hotel Babylon; I don't think maids are allowed to service the guests in their rooms." Her eyes traveled down to my pants and lingered for a moment before returning to my face. I knew then that she meant exactly what she was insinuating.

"There's no _Hotel Room _club. There's really no reason for you to be looking for a fuck here." I gestured around us.

"Jake… I'm not looking to join another club. Did it ever occur to you that I just liked our little plane tryst and you're the only person I know here. Nothing says we even have to fuck, I just know that this will be more entertaining than a night of TV in my parents room. We're staying a couple of floors above you by the way."

"There's only one hotel in the whole of London that your father feels is worthy of his presence?" I muttered.

She laughed lightly. "He _has_ booked us into the presidential suite."

My eyes rolled before I could control them—not that I wouldn't have intentionally done it anyway. "Figures." I muttered. Rosalie laughed again.

"So how are you?"

It took me a second to answer her strangely normal question. "Er… good, a little tired but I guess that's good considering what time it is here… I can go to sleep and wake up on London time. You?"

"My muscles have locked up from the pressure on the plane." she told me, flexing her shoulders.

"Yeah, my fingers still swell. I used to get back aches from the pressure but you get used to it." I cracked my knuckles at the mention of them, finding that the minor amount of fluid buildup had gone already.

"Good, then you understand." She stood up from the couch and walked around the coffee table, knocked my knees apart then sat between my thighs on the edge of the cushion. "Help me out?"

I groaned and let my head fall back. "What are you doing?" I mumbled while rubbing my palms over my face.

"Jake, you've been inside me, we're a little past acting shy." She swept her hair over one shoulder.

A long minute and several exchanges of air later I looked back up to see her shirt, and more specifically the fact that there weren't any bra lines visible through the semi-transparent material. She was wearing a bra, I would have noticed if she weren't. It was just completely strapless by the looks of things. However that worked.

"Are you still conscious? I know you didn't see me from behind on the plane but it's not that incredible." she said after another couple of seconds with a huff to punctuate. "Am I going to have to rub my own back?"

"Yes." I mumbled.

"I can't." she said slowly like I was an imbecile. "Please?"

My eyes rolled again at her less than genuine polite tone. She said _please_ but probably meant _you will so just do it._ I sat up a little straighter behind her, still not touching her back. "You know there's a spa attached to the hotel, right?"

Her head dropped forward and an exasperated sigh blew out of her softly. "Either you're in or you're out."

My eyes wandered down to the bottom of her shirt where the back of her pants were pressed against the front of mine. I wanted to be back in already, just hours later. The throbbing that was gently starting in my pants was just physical evidence of that.

There was no denying it now—to myself at least—I wanted in.

My lips parted and my imagination started to get away with me as I stared at the subtle arch of her back. When my hands reached out and cupped her sides I was only mildly shocked. The movement itself hadn't been on purpose but I'd certainly been intending it more and more.

The warm skin molded under my fingers but was still firm and toned to the touch. Delicate in a way.

Soon my hands were perfectly spread across her back and edging up with my thumbs in the center, working the muscles beside her spine.

"_That feels good_." she whispered after a few moments. I could hear her breathing a little faster than normal through her nose while my massaging moved back down. The muscles _were_ tense but it wasn't like she would pick me over a spa to fix that.

This was her seduction route, getting me to help her while getting me hard. It was working…

I kept moving my hands higher until I got to her shoulders then begun deeply massaging the extremely stiff tissue I encountered across the back of her neck. She moaned softly while my thumbs worked over the knots, stretching them out so the pain would go.

Every little sound went straight into my pants and made me twitch behind her. _God she drives me crazy._ I closed my eyes and just allowed my fingertips to tell me what she needed. They sought out the hard parts in her otherwise soft muscles and worked the small spasms into submission.

She moaned again, this time releasing her hair so it spilled back over her shoulder and covered my hands. I paused for a long moment then continued out along her shoulders as if nothing had changed.

For whatever reason, she didn't like that.

"Let's just cut the crap." Rosalie suggested.

My breath came out in a sharp whoosh and I let my hands fall from her shoulders. She turned half-way to face me, her right hand quickly pushed through her hair from her forehead back.

"What do you want?" I asked, though I was already fairly certain.

Her eyes rolled and the corners of her lips lifted the tiniest amount. "You know what I want. The question is why are you resisting now when you've already given in."

"Did it occur to you that what happened on the plane was a one off? And a mistake on top of that? Maybe not to you but to me it wasn't something intentional and I figured that would be the end of it."

I watched, curious, as her face seemed to fall a little—like my words had really hurt her. She stared at me for a moment before letting out one dry, nasal chuckle just prior to standing.

"Fine."

"Fine." I echoed.

"See ya at the airport next week."

"Yeah. Good evening, Miss Hale." I said politely, calling her by her last name just to be an even bigger asshole than I had suddenly started turning into.

She paused with her back towards me and ran her fingers over to top of her head again. Another dry laugh sounded then she walked over to the door and let herself out—not slamming it surprisingly enough.

The sound of the lock clicking was like turning a key to release my inner conflict. My knee began bouncing as my frustration levels rapidly grew.

_Why her?_ I asked myself. _Why the _fuck _do I have to be intrigued by _her_?_

I looked over to the door. _Maybe I just want to study her, figure her out. _I pondered. It was possible. Women—generally—didn't confound me. They liked/needed to be right. They said things they didn't mean and they didn't say the things they _do _mean.

But this one was different... _weird_. She 'needed' to be right but she didn't like the things she was right about. She meant what she said and didn't sugarcoat it or twist it. She was sending me crazy but it was only out of confusion.

I needed to figure her out.

In a thoughtless flurry I sprung off the couch and lunged for the door handle then began shouting before my foot had even gotten into the hallway.

"You're fucking with my head!" I accused.

"What?" Rosalie yelled, spinning back to face me right before the elevator.

"You heard me," I sneered. "It's a little _game _to you. 'Let's manipulate and blackmail Jacob and see how long it takes him to crack'!"

She gasped loudly and glared at me; anger was burning in her whole face. "Oh, that's fucking rich. You're hot then you're cold, you're yes then you're no, you're—" She paused for a second then shook her head. "You're _the_ most annoying person I've ever met—"

"Then why the fuck do you keep coming near me?" I interrupted.

Her breath came out in a sharp exhale then she fell silent for a long moment. "I don't know. It started off as an easy fuck and then it turned into a..." Her voice trailed off but I knew what she was going to say. The same thing I accused her of.

"A game." I finished.

"I don't wanna play anymore." she decided in a much calmer tone.

"Me neither," I instantly agreed. "This ends here before we drive each other even crazier than we already have."

She nodded without argument.

Relieved, I softened my posture a little. The mind fuckery was over. In this calming, silent environment she didn't look like such a bitch anymore. Without the slight smirk and soft glare her features looked smoother and even prettier than she was regardless of her expression.

"I need to go." she announced.

"Then go." I told her without moving or breaking our eye contact.

She didn't respond, or move. She probably expected me to move _for_ her.

Not gonna happen.

So we both stayed motionless. Staring.

Quick as a flash, her eyes darted down to my lips then back up. More than likely, she thought I hadn't seen. But I did and it instantly brought up the idea of kissing her. An idea I... almost _liked_.

Again, she glanced down to my mouth but this time I took a half step forward and pressed my lips to hers.

_What the fuck?_

She reacted immediately, kissing me back, hooking her hands behind my head to keep me within her reach. My hands went to her hips and with another step forward I pushed her up against the wall with a thud.

The kiss was broken when she gasped on the impact but I didn't pull away and she didn't push me. Her fingers loosened from around my neck and slid down to my chest where they couldn't go any further due to the limited space between us.

"You're such an asshole." she murmured, panting softly.

"I know." I smiled a little.

She looked up and her lips parted a little. "And you're _really_ hot." With that she yanked me down again and reconnected our lips to continue the hard and fast kisses.

She ignored the little snort that snuck out after her comment and pressed herself against me.

_Oh, fuck it._

I walked the three steps back into my room then spun the two of us around and kicked the door shut.

_If you can't beat 'em, join 'em._

:-:-:-:

I looked over to my right where Rosalie was lying, catching her breath quietly. We were now lying in the massive hotel bed, loosely draped in the sheets after half an hour of _very _active fucking that started and ended in—but was not limited to—aforementioned bed.

"How the hell did you know where I was staying in the whole of London?" I asked.

She looked back at me but didn't respond for a long minute. When she did her tone was chased with a look of sheepish embarrassment. "I saw you in the cab next to me in traffic. Then again here. You pulled up a few seconds before us and I saw you go in; then when we were settled I went and asked what room you were in." she explained, speaking in a softer tone than she'd started with. She was tired now; I could tell.

"Stalker." I teased half-heartedly.

"Am not. It was co-incidental." she denied.

"Was it co-incidental that I ended up flying you guys?" I shot back. Rosalie opened her mouth to deny it but then stopped herself and smiled guiltily. "Mmmm hm." I smirked.

"Irrelevent." she dismissed.

"Ah huh." I muttered.

She rolled her eyes then changed the subject. "I need to go soon."

I nodded once. "Cool."

"You're real polite, aren't you? No fake offer to stay over." she teased, laughing once with her breath.

"I can promise you one thing; I won't feed you some bullshit story of a future." I told her sincerely. I didn't do that sort of shit because not only was it pointless and a lot of effort, but it always backfired with venegeful booty calls hunting you down.

Rosalie laughed quietly again. "I'm not in love, but I'm gonna fuck you 'til somebody better comes along."

"You like Marilyn Manson?" I asked, mildly shocked by this discovery.

"I like a bit of everyone." She shrugged.

I snorted again and she rolled her eyes.

"Shut up and stop insulting me."

"I thought you were leaving." I asked casually.

"I am in a minute..." she agreed then mumbled the second half, "when I can feel my feet again."

Cue smug grin.

**This was a close call and I'll probably replace the chapter after I find the mistakes so please forgive those for the time being. I hope you liked that chapter anyway.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing :D Pics and next chapter sneek peek on my blog as always.**

**Reviewer Question of the week: If you were Rose, would you have told your Dad to smite Jake's insulting ass?**


	5. Chapter 5 Epiphany

**Special and eternal thanks to my new beta, CrimsonIceGoddess, for correcting my comma misusing ass and making sure I didn't speak in riddles. I appreciate it more than I can say.**

**Mile High**

**Chapter Five**

_**Epiphany**_

"Oh my God," Rosalie gasped, almost giving me a heart attack as well as waking me up. "I fell asleep!"

"Oh, fuck… is that all?" I quickly regained control of my breathing. "I really don't give a shit. Why does it matter?"

"Because my parents will be looking for me. I said I'd be back," she said while fighting out of the tangled sheets.

I leaned over and pulled the edge out from underneath her, causing her flailing to result in a loud crash as she fell off the bed. A snort broke free before I could stop it.

"Oh shit, are you okay?" I laughed.

Blonde hair flipped around as she sat up then scrambled to her feet. "Yeah, whatever, I need to get dressed."

"Well, slow down and you'll be able to think. That will actually work faster than flitting around the place like a trapped bird."

"Where are my pants?" she asked, ignoring my suggestion. I sighed and sat up against the headboard, spotting her pants just beside the bed on my side.

Right as she dropped down to retrieve her shoe from under the edge of the couch, I grabbed the pants and stuffed them under the covers. With them stuffed down by my feet, I sat up again, looking around innocently.

"I don't know," I denied convincingly.

Again, she didn't even seem to have heard me. A minute later, she found both her shoes and her bra. She then bent over the side of the couch to look for her pants, and gave me a barely obstructed view of her thong-wearing ass. I groaned deep in my throat watching her ass wiggle as she moved, seemingly unaware that I was staring and becoming hard just a few feet behind her.

"Where are my fucking pants?" she growled, frustrated. We were both _clearly_ getting frustrated now—different kinds of frustration though.

I cleared my throat before speaking. "They might be over here."

She seemed to hear—or _chose_ to hear—that. "I think I threw them over there," she said absently and climbed onto the bed then leant over me to see off the other side. When she didn't see them, she started to pull back; I grabbed her ribs and rolled over until she was on her back with me on top of her. She stared up at me with a surprised expression.

"Slow down," I murmured. "Take a breath and stop racing around like the world's about to explode."

"I don't have time to _slow down_. Every minute I'm here I risk my parents going to see why I'm not awake, and discovering that I'm not actually there. If they haven't already." She ran her fingers through her hair only to discover knots which she then began untangling.

"Do they drink coffee?" I inquired, and raised my eyebrows. Her eyes returned to my face and a frown creased her brow.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well..." I adjusted my legs so my hard-on was pressed against her thigh. Her frown disappeared and her eyes darted down then back up. "You could buy them some and say that's where you were, rather than having sex a few floors down."

"But I'm not having sex, I'm trying to get dressed," she pointed out.

A smirk pulled at my lips. "I could change that." I offered.

The black of her pupils expanded and I felt her stomach clench for a second beneath mine.

Her bottom lip gradually dipped into her mouth, at the same time that her left leg began slowly sliding out to the side of my right, so I was between her thighs.

I pushed up into her closely and we both hummed in pleasure at the warm contact.

"Stay," I whispered and pushed into her again.

For a brief second she started to nod then it turned to a shake and she closed her eyes. "I can't, it's too risky," she mumbled.

Instantly, I laughed. "I ignored an _airplane_ to hook up with you and you talked me _into_ it. Now you expect me to be empathetic to your panic over Daddy realizing you didn't come back to the room last night?"

Her eyes opened again and she rolled them at me. "No one forced you to get hard."

"No, of course not. An extremely hot girl just somehow ended up _naked_ in a confined space with me. No manipulation occurred at all. Just like a minute ago when you were waving your practically bare ass in my direction. That didn't directly result in _very_ dirty thoughts surrounding aforementioned ass."

"It's not _my_ fault your mind's in the gutter." She smirked. "C'mon, Jacob, let me up."

I didn't move. Mainly because I really, _really_ didn't want to. "Give me two minutes to convince you to stay, and if you still want to go I'll suffer the blue balls and let you go."

The look on her face didn't change, but I knew she was considering it.

"_Two_ minutes, and if you still want to go I'll concede." I repeated my offer, getting an eye roll in response. She looked over to the clock on the bedside table then back to me.

"_Two_ minutes. Then I _will_ leave," she declared absolutely.

My smile widened and after a quick kiss on her lips I slid down her body and positioned her legs over my shoulders.

"Whoa! What are you doing?" Rosalie pushed up onto her elbows and looked down to me.

I looked at her dark turquoise thong and then back up to her face. "Convincing you to stay," I answered simply, like her question was ridiculous.

Her eyes went a little wider and her head shook. "No, no, no. You can't do that, I won't—"

"Be able to stop me?" I interrupted. She pursed her lips and the right hand side of my mouth curved up. "I know. That would be my point. I never said I'd make it _easy_. Lay down, you promised me two minutes, and since you're _so_ sure you'll want to leave after that, I want one more taste before you go."

She made a whimpering sound of hopelessness and the realization that she was already defeated. I reached my arm up from the outside of her thigh and pressed against her stomach a bit.

"Lay down," I repeated. One more second or so of resistance followed then she laid back with her head on the pillows and put her right hand over her eyes. I couldn't help but smile a bit.

Because I didn't intend on letting her keep to her current plan to leave, I completely removed her panties—awkwardly since she kept trying to close her thighs. When I returned to my position, I stopped for a second and remained quiet, looking up at Rosalie's chin as she continued to grimace behind her hand. After a long minute her fingers parted and she looked down.

"That's it?" she asked, confused.

I laughed quickly then pulled up my poker face. "No. I'm about to start the timer." I made a pointed look at my wrist then used my right hand to set the timer to two minutes. "Okay, two minutes," I said out loud, pressing the button and wrapping my arm around her lower stomach so she couldn't wiggle away.

Normally, I would have dragged it out a bit, but I needed to get her right to the peak in two minutes or less so she'd be begging me to continue. I immediately started lapping at her gently, opening her up easily and tasting her juices as I reached deeper. Run together variations of _Oh god, fuck, shit, oh my god _and normal moans of pleasure begun quickly. She fought against me a bit, trying to rock her hips away from me, but I stayed tight against her and kept my mouth attached.

The first time my top lip brushed over her clit I almost lost my hold on her from the sudden, strong jolt, and subsequent arching of her back.

"Oh, fuck… my… ungh shit," she mumbled from behind her hand.

I moved back down and teased her entrance with my tongue, soft caresses that _barely_ entered her. The salty flavor coated my tongue and the accompanying scent filled my nostrils as I methodically worked her sensitive areas.

Every time I moved in the cramped space at the end of the bed, I could feel the pressure of my hard-on straining against my boxers. If she _did_ leave now I'd have a case of blue balls that only a _trained_ medical professional could fix.

"_Ohhh _ugh! Mmmm, uh…" Her breathing settled into heavy pants while I slowed the motions to tender strokes of my tongue and lips, giving her a chance to untense a bit and actually enjoy this fully.

A few more seconds passed then I turned up the speed again. I began sucking, licking, tickling and kissing from her entrance to her swollen bud, then back down again to tease her opening.

Be-be-be-beep! Be-be-be-beep! Be-be-be-beep! My watch signaled the arrival of the one hundred and twentieth second.

Not realizing that, Rosalie let out a loud moan and slammed her arms out on either side of her to fist the sheets as her muscles started to pulse.

I pulled back from her and sat up at the foot of the bed.

The same millisecond saw her jerking up to a sitting position in front of me. "What the hell?" she demanded, the flush of light red color went from her cheeks, down her neck, to the top of her collar bone making her deliciously pink.

"Time's up." I reached under the covers and pulled out her khaki pants. "And here are your pants by-the-way."

She stared at me incredulously. Wide eyed. _Obviously_ shocked and probably a little disorientated as well, thanks to my sudden stop right before she reached her peak. "Uh…" She exhaled a tiny bit and her eyes slowly dropped from my face to the pants in my hand.

"You've got some coffee to get, right?" I asked innocently, ignoring the increasingly pissed off look she was developing. "I could use some, too. I'll come with you. There's a great little coffee shop just around the corner that does these cake type biscuit things."

Even as I stood from the bed her eyes never left the spot I'd been sitting in. Her mouth _did_ slowly open a bit, but other than that she remained motionless.

… Until she _decided_ to move. Then it was fast and loud.

"I—I cannot _believe_ you!" Rosalie shouted while I went through my bag and pulled out a clean set of clothes. "I thought you were trying to keep me here, not give me a shock induced coronary!"

I grinned smugly to myself at her level of irritation and shrugged with my back towards her. "Well you seemed quite set on two minutes, so I just enjoyed what you were willing to give."

She went silent for a long moment, and then angry footsteps started across the room. "_Unbelievable_…" she muttered again on the way to the bathroom.

"Well I don't want to gloat." I smirked.

Behind the dark wooden door, the shower started and I saw Rosalie's shirt fly past the partial opening.

_Don't be a _complete_ asshole to her._ A gentle thought suggested. Upon lifting my arm I discover a scent of sweat and decided to take a shower as well. So why not with her gorgeous, naked self?

I dropped my clothes down on the top of the duffle bag, and headed towards the rough splashing sound across the suite. The entire bathroom was already steamy when I stepped in, and I spotted Rosalie through the thick of it with her face under the jets and her back towards me. _Perfect_.

I pulled the glass shower door open quickly and stepped in. She let out a squeal and turned to me, landing herself right against my chest where my arms instantly went around her body to stop her from falling.

"This is the only shower, and I need one," I explained. She looked up at me then made a face and pulled away.

"You could've waited," she grumbled.

"I need coffee to function properly. It can't wait."

Her bright blue eyes rolled up at me, and then she took a step towards the door. I looped my arm around her waist again and pulled her back. "You've still got shampoo in your hair," I stated, making a pointed look towards the foam on her hair.

"It can wait," she muttered acidly.

_Oh shit... She fucking warned you, moron. She said you'd push too far_.

"All right, all right, I'll stop being such a prick." I promised, while stopping her from moving away again. Her eyes met mine again, and she gave me a disbelieving look.

"A bastard never changes his spots."

"Well, my parents were married before I was born so I _can_ stop. Don't go running out of here. I want you to stay, and I most certainly don't want you to get sick when you leave with wet, soapy hair."

Before she responded, I moved us both back so the shower spray was pouring over her head and began washing the white bubbles from her blonde hair. I raked my fingers through the waterlogged tresses gently to help get the shampoo out, pretending not to notice her staring at my chin as I did so.

"I know I was a jerk about it." I started, speaking in a calm tone as I massaged her scalp with the pads of my fingers. "Truth be told, I don't normally get like this. You being in such a rush to leave would be a dream come true to me usually. I don't spend the night with girls; very rarely do I change my mind about people once I set them in a category; I've _never_ taken so much shit from one person without snapping, and I most certainly have never chased after someone when _they_ walk away from _me_.

"I'm not sure how you do it, but somehow I feel guilty if I'm callous with you, even if it was warranted. Can you just cut me a bit of slack? I don't mind if you ditch your parents on the flight back, but could you please stop tormenting me? Don't dangle something in front of my face then pull it away. Patience and restraint are not my strongest points as I'm sure you've figured out. Yours hair's clean now so if you really want to go you can. Let's just call this what it is." My hands slowed then eventually slid off her hair, she stopped staring then and dropped her eyes to my stomach rather than my chin.

I took the bath sponge from the shower rack and lathered it up slowly with some body-wash.

The sound of the shower took over for a long minute until her voice caught my attention again.

"What is this?" she asked quietly.

I shrugged and started washing up my left arm. "That depends. If you want to leave now, we can just call it an extended booty call, maybe a holiday fling. Or… it might be an idea to spend some time together _without_ having sex. I'm up for both."

As my hand got to my chest her eyes started following the scrubbing motion. Her bottom lip dipped into her mouth and her eyebrows moved a little closer together. I didn't make assumptions though; I just waited for her to verbally announce her decision.

"I think it's best if we stop now… while we're still good," Rosalie mumbled and glanced up to see if I approved of the idea.

Something twisted painfully in my stomach, in a spot I didn't quite understand, but I nodded despite the peculiar feeling. "Okay. Well, I had a great time. If you find out you've got Chlamydia or something I'd appreciate knowing." My lip twitched and her facial muscles tightened even further.

"Same…" Rosalie nodded uncertainly. "Uh, can I get past?" She took a step towards me. I moved to the side to give her access to the shower door and she quickly slipped out.

The bathroom door clicked shut and with the sound came a pang of what I'm pretty sure what regret. I fisted the front of my hair and pulled it tight, hoping maybe that the ache would stop me from thinking about the reckless shit I'd done.

_Don't _ever_ let them spend the night. It's always awkward trying to get rid of them the next day._

But I didn't want to get rid of her. I think. Maybe I just wanted her for a bit longer…?

_Stupid, stupid, novice mistake._

I reopened my eyes and continued scrubbing—a little harder than before—in the hope that I could wash off the evidence of the past day.

_Why the fuck does it bother me? She's just some random girl. A girl that threw herself at a complete _stranger!_ No guy wants to get involved with someone like that._

I squeezed both my eyes and my jaw shut tight as a soft, unwanted though whispered through my head.

_... except you..._

I stepped under the spray and let the water pour over my face.

Brain bleach. A blow to the head. Amnesia. One of those neuralizers from _Men In Black_. Any of those would be fine for erasing the past... let's go with... thirty hours.

Eventually—when my skin was so wrinkled I feared it would fall off completely—I shut off the water and drug my stupid, indecisive, ridiculously obsessive ass out of the shower.

I got a towel and rubbed it over my head quickly to stop the drips, then gave my body a once over before wrapping it around my waist.

_One of these days you'll learn not to be a dickhead and when that day comes life will be a lot—_

My feet came to a halt, as did most of my thoughts.

There on my bed, slouched forward a little bit, sat Rosalie. Hair still damp. Eyes a little red. Hands fidgeting in her lap.

"What's wrong?" I asked quietly, wondering why she was back in the room. Had her parent's gone psycho at her when she walked back in?

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"So why are you sitting there looking like someone ran over your dog?" I asked, attempting to sound casual when I was actually a little concerned.

"I…" She paused to swallow. "I… don't really want to go."

"Oh." Was all I could think to say. Behind my ribs, my heart did a little skip.

She nodded. "Yeah."

"So, er… you still want some coffee?" I inquired as I walked over to my bag and started to get dressed.

"I guess. You're not mad at me?"

I could feel her eyes on my back, but I didn't turn around. "Nope. Why would I be?" I asked, wiping the water off my back.

"Because I'm being annoyingly indecisive," she suggested.

I put on a black t-shirt then picked up my pants to get to my boxers. "We're all pretty random. I'm not going to hold that against you." I dismissed the idea, and discarded the towel in one breath. She looked away a bit, and I smiled the barest amount as I put on the boxers, then a pair of dark jeans.

"Could you stop being so… polite? You should be irritated," she stated.

"And what would that accomplish?" I asked lightly, now doing it just to piss her off a bit. A little indirect pay back.

I rubbed the towel over my head again for a few seconds, and then ran my fingers through my hair. She looked up now that I was dressed; the fidgeting restarted, too.

"It would probably make me feel a bit better not to be treated nicely, despite how I've treated you," she muttered.

I walked over and took her towel then returned to the bathroom to hang them up. "Okay, from now until I've decided that you've been '_repaid_', I'm going to be rude to you. Sound good?" An involuntary smile pulled at my muscles, but I hid it by looking down at my feet as I quickly put my socks and shoes on.

"Not really," she responded.

"Good!" I exclaimed in an overly enthusiastic tone. "Get up. We're going out. And no, you have no say in where."

Smiling uncertainly, Rosalie stood up and walked with me to the door. "I'm not sure I like this."

I held the door open and motioned for her to go. "Well, until you _are_ sure, just play along. After all, you're annoyingly indecisive." I grinned. She rolled her eyes and walked out into the hall.

"I may have no _choice,_ but can I at least know _where_ we're going?" she asked.

We stopped outside the elevator doors, and I pressed the button. "Haven't decided yet. You're not the only one who's indecisive, Miss…"—She glared at me before the word even left my mouth—"Rosalie."

"My friends call me Rose," she offered.

"How inventive of them; you know, getting Rose from Rosalie. Almost as mind bogglingly awesome as when people shortened Jacob to Jake. Though, I like to think that took more neurons." I chuckled, getting another eye roll. "You already know where we're going," I told her.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." I nodded. The doors opened and I waved her in then stepped in myself. "We're going to get coffee of course."

**So what do we think Jake should do with her? (Beside's fuck her). This has been my favorite chapter so far. How about you? Got a favie yet?**

**Pics, previews and peen on my blog, overzealousguineapigstories dot blogspot dot com**

**Reviewer Question of the week: What color is your car? If no car, your cell phone cover.**

**I'm foreseeing a lot of green and red.**


	6. Chapter 6 Letting Go

**Thank you to my lovely beta, CrimsonIceGoddess, who throws me a rope when I need it most. To either hang myself, or climb back out of the ditch. Not only does she edit my shit, she helps me actually get it down in writing. She is truly an angel.  
**

**Welcome to all the new readers of my bizarre little story. I hope you're enjoying it. And hi-ya guys to my long time (is a month and a half a long time?) fans/readers. Coming back each week makes me love you all the more :) Each little follow, favorite and review makes me giggle like a little love-sick girl. But enough about me. Let's get on with what you're actually here for.**

* * *

**Mile High**

**Chapter Six**

_**Letting Go  
**_

"Is this really necessary? You weren't wearing your clothes for very long last night, and you showered this morning."

"I can't walk back in there in the same clothes I left in, or they'll know I didn't come home to get changed," she replied, while pawing through shirts at the clothing store about fifteen minutes down the road from the hotel.

"Do they honestly pay _that_ much attention to your clothing?" I sighed.

"My mother does. She's forever telling me to put some clothes on over my underwear... when I'm wearing a tank top and shorts. She commented about the '_lowness_' of my pants, and the lack of thickness of my shirt material last night. So I'm sure she'd notice if I came back in wearing them."

_Women and their God damn wardrobes! How is looking for something they may not even find _pleasurable?

I leant against one of the support pillars amongst the racks, huffed petulantly, and watched while she shopped.

"Oooh, I like this," she said, holding up a green singlet-type thing.

"Good, it's decided then. Let's go." I waved both hands towards the cash register then looked back to see Rosalie walking over to the pants rack. "Urgh, God..." I slouched down three inches shorter, and shuffled off behind her.

"You don't like shopping," she observed.

"No shit," was my response, punctuated by another childish huff.

She looked back over her shoulder wearing an amused expression. "Okay." She laughed then turned back. "These will do." She decided and took a pair of jeans off the hanger, folded the legs up, then stepped around me and walked up to the front counter.

"_Thank you,_" I whispered, looking up at the ceiling.

"Do you guys have a changing room, or a bathroom I could use?" she asked while swiping her credit card.

"No, sorry," the woman answered regretfully.

Rosalie looked around for a minute then walked back towards me and handed me her bag.

"Hold this," she instructed. Before I could respond I had the bag in my hands and she was removing the clothing.

I watched, confused, as she walked down between two hanging racks, and then swiftly pulled her shirt over her head without hesitation.

_Oh... my... God..._

My mouth dropped halfway open as I watched her change her shirt, then her pants, right there in the middle of the shop.

She flicked her hair out and gathered up her other clothes before walking back to me.

"All done," she announced and stuffed her clothes in the shopping bag. "Let's go."

"Okay..." I mumbled like a brainless zombie. Shocked and ever so slightly aroused.

She was most definitely an exhibitionist.

I followed her out of the shop, and we headed back towards the hotel. We needed to pick up some coffee to corroborate Rosalie's story, and we'd passed a place on the way down here that looked suitable enough.

The streets were busy with the early morning commotion, but I barely even noticed. I was still trying to wrap my head around Rosalie's actions at the store. She'd had no problem changing right there in the middle of the store. Most women would have waited until they had privacy, but not Rosalie. No, she was so worried about her parents finding out she hadn't come home, that she'd chosen not to wait. Her lack of modesty was incredibly sexy.

"You okay?" she asked, as we made our way to the coffee shop.

"Yeah," I mumbled. "But weren't you embarrassed about changing in the middle of the store?"

She shrugged casually, obviously unfazed by the situation. "Not really. Besides I don't have time to go back to the hotel and change. The first time we met I was naked; isn't it obvious that my modesty levels are quite low?"

I chuckled and shook my head. "True enough."

We walked in silence for a while longer, before she finally grabbed my arm. I looked up to see her pointing toward the coffee shop. "There it is. Hurry!" She dragged me down the sidewalk and into the coffee shop, where a short line waited. We filed in behind a woman on her cell phone, and waited as the people in front of us placed their orders.

Two minutes and three served customers later, Rose was practically vibrating with impatience, and I decided to try and distract her from her thoughts.

"So what do your parent's drink?" I asked, looking over the menu of English teas and various coffees.

"My mom just drinks green tea, all day, _every_ day. It's like someone's going to take it away from her," she answered. Talking did seem to calm her a little and stop the increasingly annoying bouncing motion she'd been making, though I still didn't have her full attention.

"My dad drinks Coke excessively," I offered. "It's probably not the best thing for him to be addicted to, since he has diabetes and everything."

She looked up to me out of the corner of her eye and just barely shrugged. "I guess everyone has their vices—regardless of how bad they might be. At least it's not crack."

I nodded in agreement. "Green tea's one thing; they use Coke to clean metal. I can only imagine what it's doing to his stomach. But, we each have to make our own mistakes. When he wakes up one morning with a hole through his stomach, he'll have only himself to blame," I stated, regretfully. "What about your father?"

"Black, one sugar, hotter than the center of the sun," she said hastily, now the line had moved so we were the next ones.

As "Cell Phone Lady" ordered her espresso and left, Rosalie and I stepped up the counter. The barista was a tall, brunette with boobs that surely could have knocked her out if she were to run. The unflattering uniform did nothing to hide her curvy, hour glass figure.

I noticed her eyeing me with a devilish smirk on her face. She seemed completely oblivious to the fact that Rosalie was there.

"What can I get for you?" she asked me directly, shifting her weight so she was leaning on the counter, giving me a full view down the collar of her shirt.

Clearing my throat, I turned my gaze to Rosalie to see her glaring at the woman. In an attempt to cool what could potentially be a nasty situation, I grabbed her hand, eyeing her pointedly.

She didn't look at me as she poked the woman in the shoulder, a bit harder than necessary. The woman jumped and snapped to attention as her eyes fell first on Rosalie, then on our intertwined hands.

"Listen, uh—," Rosalie leaned forward, staring pointedly at the woman's name tag. "—Jessica, are you going to take my fucking order or are you just going to hit on my boyfriend?"

I bit my lip in attempt to stifle a laugh as the woman's face turned four different shades of red. "Um, uh..." she stammered.

Continuing to glare, Rosalie said, "I want a regular green tea. Don't leave it sitting there, I don't want it tasting like grass. I also want a large black coffee, one sugar, and it had _better _be hotter than the fires of hell. Make it quick. I'm strapped for time."

After punching in our order, and taking our payment, the woman stepped over to the counter to fix it, her head down.

I leant down a little closer to Rosalie before whispering, "Bitch much?" with amusement in my voice.

She looked up to me, still wearing a scowl, but said nothing in response. Her fingers twisted out of my grip as she looked and her arms folded across her body.

We stayed silent for the rest of the wait. It didn't take long before our drinks were being delivered to us, and we were leaving the coffee shop.

"Boyfriend?" I asked, once we were outside again and on our way back to the hotel. She detected the note of entertained teasing in my voice and answered it with defensive but mild irritation.

"The bitch didn't even notice me standing there next to you."

I chuckled. "It's not a big deal. I'm used to chicks flirting with me."

She eyed me narrowly. "I'm sure," was all she said.

We arrived at the hotel a short time later, the remainder of our walk silent. We walked toward the elevator, riding to her floor in a comfortable silence. The doors pinged open, and we stepped out into the hallway outside her room.

She turned to look at me and took the tray holding her parents drinks before speaking. "This is going to sound pretty rude, but stand here," she ordered and herded me around the L-shaped corridor where I couldn't see her door.

"Er, why?" I asked, but moved nonetheless. I stopped beside a wooden table about halfway down the wall that was holding a vase of flowers with a mirror on the wall behind.

"It wouldn't go down well if my dad happened to walk out and see you here when he views you as an employee."

I nodded, knowing the type instantly. "He's one of those people, huh? The ones that think that because I provide them a service, they're my boss."

"Pretty much," she agreed. "He's the same way with taxi drivers and then wonders why they go the long way or _accidentally_ up his fare."

I rolled my eyes and said nothing more.

"Okay, so you wait here, if I'm not back in ten minutes, go out into the alley and catch me as I jump out the window in a suicide attempt."

I laughed once then asked, "You want me to stop you from dying, but you're still going to attempt suicide?"

She shrugged a little. "I don't really want to die; spending time with my parents just makes me _wish _I were dead."

"So naturally, once you're _flying _through the air after jumping off the hotel balcony, you'd change your mind and want to live," I surmised mockingly.

After pretending to think about it for a moment, she nodded. "Yeah, that's about it," she agreed and quickly walked back to the corner. "Stay," she instructed playfully, then disappeared from sight without looking back. I heard the lock beep as it opened then the door click shut a few seconds later.

I let out a sigh before running my fingers through my hair. What the fuck was I doing with this girl? She was gorgeous, sexy, and great in the sack. All things I loved in women, but there was another draw to her that I didn't understand. I didn't even feel like this towards girls I'd known for ten years.

I paced up and down the side hallway, waiting for her as she'd asked. I'd never done anything like this before. Usually, my only interest was in was sex. Now, I actually want more than that with her. I wanted to spend time with her.

"Fuck," I mumbled. I needed to end this before things got complicated. This wasn't who I was, and I didn't want to hurt her. I walked toward the elevator, fully prepared to leave the hotel and forget all about Rosalie Hale. Looking over my shoulder, back at her room door, I remembered how she'd been sitting on the bed earlier, not wanting to leave me.

With another reluctant sigh, I decided not be a complete douchebag, and turned back toward the table, where I continued to wait for her.

Five minutes passed slowly. And quietly. The only noise was the gentle hum of the elevator every now and then.

I heard the door open another minute or so later, but stayed put in case it was her mom or dad leaving. That would be an interesting conversation that I could really do without.

"_Jake_," Rosalie whispered and poked her head around the corner. I couldn't help but smile at how cute her erratic, secretive behavior was. She beckoned me forward with one finger, then disappeared back around the wall before I was even halfway there. By the time I lazily strolled around to her the elevator had returned.

We stepped in, and before she could press the ground floor button, I hit the one for my floor. I'd figured she'd have felt the cold by now and have picked up a jacket while in her room. But since she didn't, it was just easier to get one of mine, rather than argue the point with her.

"Why are we going to your room?"

"I need to get something." I told her as the doors shut.

She said nothing else as we travelled down for a few seconds. The doors opened again, and we both stepped out. Rosalie lingered behind me while I swiped the card, then swiped it again... then again.

"Stupid fucking plastic things," I grumbled and wiped the magnetic strip on my leg quickly before swiping it again. "What happened to keys?"

"Um," Rose's hand reached under my arm and she waited a second before taking the card from my fingers. "It helps if you have it around the right way." She flipped it over then swiped it once more and the door lock opened. "And if you don't swipe it faster than the machine can read." Her arm disappeared from under mine and when I turned around she was holding the card out to me with an ever-so-slightly smug look on her face.

"Yeah, that might help," I agreed, and took the key card from between her long, thin fingers. "C'mon." I nodded towards the door and pushed it open.

I went straight for my bag and Rose stayed a few feet in the door, waiting for me. I rifled through to the bottom where my jackets were and pulled out a black hoodie then returned to the door and whipped it open.

"Let's roll," I decided, holding the door open at the top so she could walk underneath my arm.

Rosalie laughed again as she ducked under. "You did not just say, _let's roll_."

"Oh, but I did. I'm also known for the occasional, _let's leave this building for another, _and a guaranteed crowd pleaser of, _I'm out,_ like being in the room was a game of cards," I told her. The elevator returned for us yet again and this time Rose hit the ground floor button.

"That's..." she paused for a second, searching for the right word. "... really sad."

"So's your face," I responded without thinking about it, then flinched a little when I heard a shocked gasp and realized what I'd said.

A moment later, my arm throbbed as Rosalie's fist made solid contact just below my shoulder. A rather pathetic whimpering noise squeaked out of my mouth as I clutched my pain-numbed arm. She could fucking hit.

"Just be happy it wasn't your face," she said, laughing sadistically even when we arrived in the lobby.

"Trust me, I am," I groaned and rubbed my shoulder quickly before following her out.

We stopped at the vending machines. In the excessively decorated lobby, they were hidden behind a half wall. After buying some drinks, we headed toward the front door, ready to get the hell out of here.

"What do you think would happen if that thing fell down on someone?" I murmured, making a pointed glance up to the enormous chandelier hanging in the middle of the two story high room.

"They'd die," she answered instantly. "But officially, nothing like that would ever happen here. It'd be written off as '_the chandelier incident_' and everyone would pretend that meant a bulb had blown."

"Don't you love living in a fantasy world?"

"It makes me wish I could be the one under the chandelier."

"Me too," I agreed. The doorman opened the door just before we got there, and we stepped out together.

Rose stopped just outside the door, inhaled deeply, then sighed. "Ahhh, the stench of reality."

I mimicked her action. "Smells like gasoline," I stated, humorously, and then started moving again.

The walk was casual, and we chatted about nonsensical stuff as we made our way across the street to Hyde Park. As with everyday, there were joggers running a path through the park, as well as other couples walking hand in hand. I gazed at Rosalie from the corner of my eye and noticed her admiring a flock of geese in the sky.

I chuckled to myself before deciding to break the silence. "You hungry?" I asked, waving my hand toward the various food vendors that dotted the park.

Not turning her attention to me, she nodded. "I could eat."

I chuckled and tentatively reached over to grab her hand. Now, she did turn attention to me, her eyes big.

"Is this okay?" I asked.

Her brow furrowed for a moment and then she nodded. "Um... yeah. It's fine."

I nodded, and began scanning the park for somewhere to get a burger. After several minutes, I spotted a vendor just off the path. "There we are," I said, as I lead her toward it.

"You're not one of those girls who doesn't _actually_ eat, are you?" I asked, and glanced over to her. "I doubt this place sells salad."

She chuckled and shook her head. "No. I eat just like the normal people."

"Another part of your cover?"

"Surprisingly, no." She shook her head again. "My father very rarely makes time for me to eat when I'm with him, I think he's under the impression that I don't need to or some shit. Pretending I _didn't_ would be a part of my _father-pleasing_ cover."

"So then I guess you know what the things on the menu are, and I won't need to order for you." I smirked and Rosalie nodded sarcastically.

"Yep, I believe I've had the pleasure of a hamburger before."

"What about French fries?"

"Never in London. But then again, I've never eaten _anything_ in London before, so here's to firsts."

"To losing our virginity." I grinned and tapped the neck of my coke bottle with hers. She stepped away from me, rolling her eyes, and ordered a hamburger and fries from the vendor.

I placed my order and after we got our food, we began walking once again. The walk was rather long, but I knew exactly what I wanted to see while we were here.

"This place is really beautiful," she said, as she looked around the park.

"It is. Very beautiful."

"Where are we going," she asked.

"I want to see the Albert Memorial. Is that okay?"

She nodded. "Sounds fine to me. I wouldn't mind seeing it, either." She looked up to me after a second and smiled a little. "It's not like a have a _choice_."

"Not in the slightest," I agreed.

The remainder of our walk was in a comfortable silence, and that was fine with me. I'd never been able to do this sort of thing before. In fact, just having a girl around for more than an hour after I'd fucked her would have normally made me extremely uncomfortable. I wasn't like that with Rosalie, however. It was just easy, like breathing.

We arrived at The Albert Memorial some time later and, after studying the monument for a few minutes, we settled down under a nearby tree to eat.

As I ate, I couldn't help but watch her eat. She appeared to have a system to it. One bite of burger, then a two to three French fries, then another bite of the burger. Every three burger bites she took a drink. It was goofy and oddly sexy and I couldn't help but observe it.

I watched intently as she pulled three fries from the bag. Her perfect lips encircled each one slowly, her tongue darting out just a little bit to lick off some of the salt, before she slowly eased the entire fry into her mouth.

_She's eating a fry, not sucking you off, stop fucking staring._

A second after that thought finished, Rosalie looked up from the grease paper bag and quirked her eyebrow at me when she caught me staring. "What?" she asked.

I shrugged and shook my head innocently. "Nothing."

"If you think I'm pretty, just tell me." She grinned.

"I think you're pretty," I said simply.

Her smile turned softer and her cheeks flushed pink. "_Urg!_ Why does that matter? I _never_ care what guys think about me."

"Sure you do," I argued. She pushed up from her stomach to her hip and sat sideways, leaning her left hand on the ground.

"No, I really don't." Her head shook from side to side softly, illustrating the point further.

"If I said I didn't like you wearing green, would you think twice about wearing it again?" I nodded to her shirt, which actually looked stunning beneath her loose hair, then looked back to her face again—before I started fantasizing about what was _under_ the form fitting shirt.

"I'd ask why. Do you not like the color green?" she asked.

"I happen to love green, but if I _didn't,_ and told you that, the next time you got dressed, you'd hesitate. Because you care what people think whether you'll admit it or not. Hence the whole cover story façade." I pointed out. Her pretending to be what her father _wanted_ her to be was proof enough that she needed other people's approval.

Her lips tightened a bit for a long moment, then she shrugged. "I guess. So I care about what my father thinks, that doesn't mean it extends to other people. It usually doesn't'."

"Join the club." I smiled. "We seem to bring out the best, and worst in each other. You antagonize me, but you also elicit more patience than I'm used to having."

"That's a bad thing?"

"No. It's just strange. It's like I'm off balance or something." I stopped myself there, before all the confusion I felt came out, and then I wouldn't be able to retract it.

"Jet lag, maybe? You left your old self back in New York?" she suggested playfully.

I took the escape route and nodded. "Oh yeah, you should see me in Japan, total crack head. Then in Russia I'm a ballet dancer."

"Spandex pants?"

"Of course." I grinned and we both laughed, the seriousness was gone now and it stayed away for the rest of the afternoon.

"You've got a very good poker face." Rose commented as we walked back through the park towards the hotel. It was getting pretty dark now; neither of us had any desire to go somewhere else purely for the purpose of killing time, so we headed back.

I chuckled, amused by her unintentional joke. "I should, I've been playing Black Jack since I was about... six years old," I told her informatively.

Her eyes widened a bit. "You were playing Black Jack in the first grade?"

"Every night after dinner, my father and I would sit down and play. I knew basic strategy when I was eight years old."

"When I was eight I was learning how to eat with fifteen different pieces of cutlery at _The Plaza_, while my nanny was drinking at the bar. You're telling me you were playing Black Jack while I was getting yelled at for using a seafood fork to eat my salad?"

"Well that all depends on what time you were eating. I may have been covered in mud with a football jammed under my arm, and my cousin slamming my face into the ground. That's not so academically impressive. I had a very typical childhood with some odd things thrown in. I played football and baseball with my friends—and my cousin until he moved over to Washington—but then I'd go home and play Black Jack with my dad. I'd go to school every day and complain about it, but I was in the top ten percent in almost all of my subjects. Even now, I'm doing one thing and the opposite to that at the same time."

"You're walking _and_ standing still?" she asked teasingly, adjusting the sleeves of my hoodie to cover her hands. She'd finally gotten so shivery an hour ago that she'd conceded and put the jacket on after resisting at first when she'd found out I'd brought it for her.

"I'm both wondering why I'm here, and completely enjoying it at the same time. I love being around you, but I'm not sure why. You annoy me like hell, but I can't get _'angry' _at you. Do you know what I mean?" I looked across to her curiously and she nodded.

"Yeah. You're confused. I am, too. But I'm also trying this thing where I don't plan everything and just go with a good thing; you might wanna give it a go as well."

I nodded and shrugged at the same time. She had a point. "So what made you just randomly decide to compliment my deception skills?" I asked.

"I was just remembering your face when you came out of the bathroom this morning. I know it must have thrown you to see me still there, then again when I went all girly, but you didn't show it," she explained, with short looks up to my face every few seconds as we walked.

"Okay, yeah. I'll admit, that did shock me a bit," I confessed. Her breathing stuttered a little and I knew I'd made her uncomfortable, so I quickly offered up something disconcerting about myself. "Not nearly as much as when I realized that I'd rather sustain some kind of head trauma and short term memory loss than have to remember how stranglely addictive your presence is. But I covered that pretty well too."

Her forehead creased deeply then she stopped and turned to face me completely. I stopped too. "How the hell am I meant to know if you're _ever _telling the truth?" Rosalie asked seriously.

Not having an answer for her, I shrugged. "I guess you'll just have to trust me."

She thought about it for a second then her face went smooth. "Huh. I've never trusted anyone before. Might be interesting."

I laughed at the casual tone she used when surrendering her trust, and impulsively pulled her against my body. "Naw, you'll survive," I promised, patting her back in an impugning manner.

It wasn't until I went to pull back that I felt her arms around my waist. When I looked down, I found that her cheek was pressed against my chest, and she wasn't pulling away from the impromptu body contact.

She must have felt me go rigid, because she started explaining herself. "It's cold and you're warm," she mumbled.

"You know we're kinda hugging, right? In public," I checked.

Rose nodded a little. "Yep."

"Just making sure," I said, quickly, whilst wrapping my arms around her back.

We stayed still for another thirty seconds or so before eventually parting. After the third time I found myself smelling her hair, I decided enough was probably enough.

The rest of the walk was spent in comfortable silence as we made our way through the long, winding paths until we got to _The Four Seasons_. The lobby was practically deserted now- most of the people were probably out having dinner, or in their rooms already. We got into the elevator and I pressed the button for my floor, then a second later, Rose pressed the one for hers.

"You're going back to your room?" I asked once the doors had closed.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think it'd be for the best. I don't want to have to repeat this morning again tomorrow. I don't think you could _handle_ another public striptease."

I rolled my eyes, but nodded reluctantly. "I don't think you could handle a repeat of the mini heart attack you had when you woke up."

"Probably not," she agreed, right as the doors opened on my floor. I stepped out then turned back to face her.

"So... I guess this is goodnight," I surmised.

"That's generally what happens now," she agreed.

"Goodnight," I murmured.

"Goodnight, Jake." she smiled gently.

Just like in the movies, the doors shut then, and I was left on the other side still looking at the metal.

A dull pain flashed through my chest when I heard the elevator move away, and I exhaled loudly. _Oh, fuck, _I thought hopelessly, realizing what that pain was.

I already fucking missed her.

* * *

**So... progress? I think so. Let me know what you think via review, or maybe you'd prefer to come and play on Twitter. Either way.**

**My blog: overzealousguineapigstories dot blogspot dot com has all the pics and previews for this story, and any others you might have heard of. Check 'em out if you're interested. A direct link is on my profile.  
**


	7. Chapter 7 Blackjacked

**So, I should probably grovel a bit *drops to the floor wailing and clinging onto your leg, pleading for you not to go* after my epic fail last week. I'm such an unreliable bitch. S'cool, I'm aware. You got The Deadline as a consolation prize, but that's not the same, and I apologize.**

**Due to my last minute completion, this chapter aint beta'd yet, but when it is, I'll replace the content. Please excuse any and all mistakes.**

**Regardless of all that, here it is.**

**Mile High**

**Chapter Seven**

_**Blackjacked**_

_Mom rubbed her nose against my ear playfully then started kissing quickly all around my cheeks and forehead, making me laugh and wiggle away from the tickling that caused._

_I got the blanket and pulled it up over my head, but her hands burrowed in the sides and started tickling my ribs. I rolled around, trying to get away from her wiggly fingers, but there was nowhere on my single bed. I was stuck. Stuck and laughing so much my tummy hurt._

_"Okay, enough," Mom decided gently and stopped her 'attack'._

_I flipped the blankets back so I could see her face again, and took in a deep breath of fresh air._

_She pushed my hair back and put one more kiss on my forehead. "I love you. Go to sleep. You've got school tomorrow."_

_"I hate school," I instantly replied._

_"But school doesn't hate you so you have to go," she said back and fixed my blankets smoothly._

_"What does that mean?" I asked. How could school, a building, hate _anyone?

_"It means you might hate school, but you're good at it, so it doesn't hate you. Now, go to sleep. No more questions; I know your game plan, buddy," she said firmly as she stood from the bed. Her big, round belly wobbled as she moved and Mom put her hands at the bottom once she was standing._

_"Is it annoying being pregnant?" I asked before I could stop myself. She'd _said _no more questions._

_Mom shook her head without pointing out my mistake. "I got you at the end of it. In a few more weeks I'll get your sister and it'll all be worth it." She walked over to the door and turned off the light. "Goodnight, my sweet boy," she said quietly with a smile in her voice before closing the door three quarters of the way._

_I rolled onto my side, curled my fist into my blanket to keep it over my shoulder, and then fell asleep soon after._

The burning in my chest woke me up in the dimly lit hotel room. I drew in a few long breaths to try to extinguish the pain a little, but it didn't really work. It never did.

I rolled over and got up from the comfortable bed and walked heavily over to the kitchenette thing at far side of the studio-type room. I ran some water over my forearms and then splashed some up onto my face to cool the aching of the almost shed tears in my eyes.

It was pretty rare that I'd go to bed _and _wake up with this feeling, but today was the exception to that.

The last few days had been the exception to a few personal _rules _I had.

I yawned silently, repeated my previous motion with another handful of water, then shook off my hands and stepped away from the sink.

Perhaps it was the lengthy—for me—four hour sleep I'd gotten the night before last that was making me so sluggish today after my usual two hours. I still couldn't figure it out why I'd slept so well with Rosalie.

Chest pain.

I'd tried to rule her out as a contributing factor in a very lengthy internal debate for my extended conscious hours last night, but the two nights on either side of our little slumber party involved sleeping from around three to five a.m. for two hours with a little change in position at around the halfway mark. With her in with me, I'd slept right through for twice as long, no dreams, and woke up almost in the same position beside her with our arms overlapping. I couldn't logically exclude her as a possibility for that. If she hadn't have woken up and screamed, God knows how long we would have stayed there for.

But I didn't like to think about it. It brought back memories of how she'd decided to leave soon after. Just because she didn't make it out the door, didn't mean she didn't _want _to go on some level.

_Mmff_. Chest pain.

At around four-thirty I'd finally passed out and slept for two hours before waking from a familiar dream. One that brought with it a familiar feeling. The one of loss and longing.

In an attempt to distract myself, I wandered over to the balcony door and stepped out into the cold morning air. I didn't really enjoy the cold, but I did like fresh air, and that wasn't in abundance inside the hotel room. The scent of rain was already mingled in the air—this day was just going to get worse. Colder, wetter, more depressing.

I scanned the panoramic view thoughtlessly while enjoying the feel of the fairly clean morning air washing out the stale remnants of enclosed hotel room scent from my lungs. Sure, it was nice here, but still, seen one grey concrete building and you've seen the lot. Same with trees.

Then, I spotted something I _had_ seen before, but still found interesting because of what it represented.

The white, combed-back hair of Charles Hale.

The white, combed-back hair of Charles Hale outside.

White haired Charles Hale was outside, getting into a taxi with a hat-wearing woman that I could only _assume_ was Rose's mother from this less than desirable position looking at the tops of their heads.

The hotel doorman closed the rear taxi door with a soft thump, then the car pulled away—just _two _people had gotten in.

From what I saw anyway.

Suddenly, I got a little film cut of Rosalie pottering about the hotel room alone in flannel, cloud design pajamas with bunny slippers. As exceedingly weird, slightly perverse, and disturbing as it was, the image was still a heartwarming one. It took a little of the pain away. I wondered, briefly, how old she actually was.

The night we arrived she'd mentioned being over eighteen, so her parents could do nothing but chastize her if she stayed out late. Leah was twenty-one, so probably somewhere around there.

As long as she was sixteen or over, I kind of didn't care. The pull towards her was unexplainably intense, blinding in its own way. It was the only reason I put up with all the reckless shit she did.

That and, for whatever reason, I wanted to do reckless shit as well when I was around her.

She truly did bring out the best _and _worst in me.

Content with my time outside, I returned to the temperature controlled warmth inside and went to the scene of our first _break up_. The plain-looking bathroom.

We'd _broken up_ without ever _actually_ going out. Unconventional as always.

I didn't linger for too long after showering. The room held no interest for me.

My life had taught me one unforgettable and immeasurably valuable lesson. In the blink of an eye—the space of time it takes to sleep—you can lose everything. And once it's gone, it rarely comes back.

Rose could be here for the next sixty years, or she might already be gone. But I knew that, regardless of what happened now, tomorrow, or next week, I'd always wonder what might have occurred if I'd used the time I had.

And right now, I wanted to see her, for no apparent reason.

Without being very selective, I threw on a pair of pants, shoes, and a thick t-shirt, and then grabbed my room key and left before I could change my mind fifteen times only to come to the same conclusion.

I missed her, even if she didn't miss me. My finger paused, hovering in front of the elevator button. _Do you _really _want to do this? She might be trying to avoid another run-in, _I asked myself seriously.My jaw set a little tighter and I pressed the button—no answer crossing my mind, because I didn't need one. I wanted to see her, and I already knew that even if I tried to seclude myself, we'd somehow run into each other.

It was fucking ridiculous that in a country this size, I couldn't even have _one _building to retreat to. I couldn't stop her from finding me in public, and we both had a valid reason for being in this hotel.

There was literally no escaping her. It was some humorous twist of fate.

Until we got back to New York, where I'd somehow never ran into her before, I knew this was how it would be. Until we got back to the place where she didn't know where I lived. Where things would go back to normal.

The elevator doors opened and right before I stepped out I heard a gasp that stopped me in my tracks.

Of course, there she was. Flustered. Looking ridiculously adorable with a bizarre little hat on her head.

She drew her bottom lip into her mouth and gnawed on the corner, avoiding making eye contact. I started smiling as I came to the realization that she'd obviously had the same intention as me. My first laugh got her attention and the second made her smile as well.

"C'mon." I leaned forward and pulled her in next to me then quickly pressed the button for my floor. "You were so coming to see me." I smirked.

Rose turned to me and laughed with her mouth in a wide 'o'. "And you were just coming _up _to my floor before heading _down_ to the lobby."

"No, I was coming to see you," I admitted without hesitation. She went silent for a moment then laughed again and shook her head in defeat.

"Yeah, me too," she said, "My parent's just left."

"I know, why do you think I came now?"

Once again, she laughed. "You are such a stalker!"

"Oh, you love it," I accused.

The elevator doors opened on my floor and Rosalie stepped out then turned around to face me, shuffling backwards slowly.

"That's the defense invoked by rapists. _She loved it; she's just too embarrassed to admit it._"

"But there's a difference. Stalking you doesn't hurt you," I pointed out, still in the elevator. "I was in Australia a few months back and heard about this guy getting off for rape by saying it was '_surprise sex_', and that just because she didn't like it, that was no reason for him to go to jail."

The doors began to shut and I quickly put my hand in the way to stop it, then stepped out and walked slowly next to her.

The whole time Rosalie had been silent, mouth slightly open. "That's atrocious," she eventually said. "Imagine if some guy just strolled on up to a girl at the beach and started fucking her, "_Surprise!_" I'd gouge his eyes out or something equally damaging. At least then it wouldn't take the cops long to find him. _It's the guy running around with no eyes, officer. Oh, and here they are._" She mimed handing eyes to an invisible police man then scoffed and shook her head.

"Good thing I'm not into surprise sex..." I mumbled, purposefully loud enough for her to hear. Her face turned amused again almost instantly.

"If it were you, it wouldn't be a surprise. You _always_ look like you're gonna jump me at any second." She laughed.

My left eyebrow rose automatically. "Oh really?" I asked. Apparently my poker face wasn't as good as I though.

"Yup." She grinned.

I smiled a little. "How about now?"

"_Especially_ now," she said, nodding her head slowly with the teasing smirk I almost _liked_.

When she was just a few inches from the door—and I was just a few inches from her—we both stopped moving.

Her lip twitched a tiny bit; she knew what I was gonna do, but I did it anyway.

I jumped her. Right there in the hallway.

My hands attached to her hips, I yanked her hard against me and held her there. She collided with a gasp, but didn't struggle or resist at all. I slipped my hands down from her hips and grabbed the bottom of her ass in my palms with my fingers gripping the inside of her thighs. I _loved_ touching her legs and ass. The muscles were so smooth and toned—luxuriantly firm.

For a moment her eyes caught mine and I could see the playfulness spark up in her. Her hands went for my face quickly, but not to gouge my eyes out. She pressed her warm palms against the back of my jaw with her fingertips digging into my scalp as she pulled me down and stretched up to meet me at the same time.

We kissed once for a moment, firm and purposefully, but not rough. I felt her lips part and opened mine with hers just a fraction before she pulled back and sucked in a quick breath.

"Be careful who you go around attacking," she whispered and then quickly kissed me again before catching my bottom lip between hers. Her hands got a little tighter and her teeth grazed over the sensitive flesh as she slowly let it slide out. "They might bite back," she finished. Her lips found mine again for just a few moments, then her hands loosened and she pushed me back a little. "C'mon, let's go inside," she said, tapping the lock suggestively.

I took the card from my pocket and swiped it, unlocking it first try thankfully. I didn't need to be schooled again like yesterday. Having one nut figuratively chopped off by a combination of a swipe lock, and a girl who took way too much pleasure in the incident, was embarrassing enough.

Rose stepped back into the room then turned and headed towards the living room. I stood there for a long moment, watching her ass as she walked. The dark blue denim held tight to her skin from the low position where they began on her hips to about midway down her thighs before they got a tiny bit looser on the rest of her legs. I ran my fingers through the front of my hair and sighed quietly as I followed her in and shut the door.

Those pants were going to get me in trouble.

:-:-:-:

My ass was in the air. Waving from side to side like a burlesque dancer.

"Jake, for God's sake, it's not that important!" Rose shouted light-heartedly from behind me. Another series of giggles sung out while I shoved my hand further back into the cavity beside the kitchen draws and fished around for the pack of cards I knew every hotel room inevitably had.

I swiped my hand sideway down the three inch wide, two foot deep crevice and shoved all the garbage bags and rubber gloves out of the way.

"I know they're around here somewhere," I replied in a croaky voice from the awkward position I was in that was squishing my lungs. "I want them," I continued.

"We can find something else to do," she offered, laughing yet again at the way I was grunting, bent over, with my hand in a tight spot.

_Urg, my mind's completely gone to the gutter._

As soon as that thought finished, my hand came in contact with a promisingly sized box. I yanked it free and grinned with excessive happiness at my insignificant victory. I'd found the cards; I wouldn't maul Rosalie from sheer lack of other entertainment.

"Ready to learn how to play _Blackjack_?" I asked, still beaming.

She rolled her eyes, smiling widely too, and nodded. "Since you went to so much trouble."

I shook my head—smiling despite myself—when Rose quite literally bounced over to the bed and positioned herself cross-legged on the furthest side.

"What are you, twelve?" I asked as I walked over and sat on the bed in a much more reserved manner.

She shook her head wordlessly.

_Huh, maybe I can find out._

"Thirteen to fifteen?" I asked, knowing she wouldn't say yes.

She shook her head as I knew she would.

"Sixteen to eighteen?" I tried again; this time a little worried that when she said she was over eighteen that she just meant she'd had her eighteenth birthday.

But, her head shook again. A slightly relieved feeling hit me.

"Nineteen to twenty-one?"

A moment later, she winked quickly.

_Fuck, that's so hot, _I thought. My breathing just barely jumped when my heart did a weird clenchy thing, but I did my best to ignore it. No matter how innocently seductive she tried to be, or just was by nature, I wasn't going to do anything except teacher her how to play poker.

I nodded in acknowledgement of her silent answer and started opening the pack of cards.

"The cards from two to ten are worth whatever is on them, face cards are ten points each, and the ace is either one or eleven. The aim of the game is to beat the deal, which in this case would be me. You beat them by getting the closest the twenty-one without going over. If you go over, you bust, if the dealer goes over, _they _bust. The player always goes first, so even if the dealer would have gone bust too, you still lose," I explained, all the while fanning then shuffling the cards.

"So a queen and an ace is a guaranteed win?" she checked.

"There are fifty two cards in a deck. Four are aces, twelve are face cards, and thirty-six are two through ten. There's much more of a chance of you getting some annoyingly numbered card that completely fucks your game than there is of you getting anything close to twenty. But yes, that's a guaranteed win, unless I get twenty-one too. The king and ace of spades is actually Blackjack, what the games named after."

Rose nodded, watching when I dealt us each two cards.

I looked at my cards, a queen and a nine, and then looked over to her. She looked at her cards too but didn't seem overly surprised, so I guessed she had something in the mid teens area.

"Now, there are two types of hands. Soft hands and hard hands. As I said before, the ace can count for one or eleven. If counting the ace as an eleven would put you over twenty one then it becomes a hard hand and the ace is counted as eleven. If it could put you under or right on twenty-one then it's a soft hand and you can do with it what you please."

"So, can you draw another card if you only have, like, thirteen? Take a chance that it'll be an eight," she asked.

I nodded. "Sure. But if you get over then you lose. Wanna draw another card?"

She slowly shook her head then looked back to me. "This isn't very hard."

"Playing's not hard at all. Winning is. Card counting's illegal, if you get caught, but if you don't, then you can play knowing exactly what the odds are of you getting a good card. Knowing what's still in the deck, calculating the odds, that's what makes a winner."

"What about luck? You can just luckily get the right cards," she pointed out.

I nodded again and flipped over my cards. "Yeah, but luck's not a guaranteed win. It doesn't increase your odds."

She looked at my cards then picked up her own. "I think I get it," she decided, then laid down the cards. "Blackjack, right?"

My eyes shot down to her cards, an ace and king of spades. "Motherfucker…" I whispered and my face dropped to a blank, open-mouthed gaping.

Rose giggled and shrugged innocently. "I must be lucky," she surmised.

"Extremely," I agreed.

"But then again, luck doesn't increase your odds," she teased.

I rolled my eyes and gathered up the cards again. "Yeah, yeah, don't gloat," I mumbled, now shuffling again—extra long this time, making sure the cards were well spread out. "_Should've taken her to Vegas,_" I continued in a theatrical grumbling tone.

"Shoulda, woulda, coulda," she sang, happily triumphant.

"Well, congratulations. You've learnt the basics of Blackjack, and won your first hand. You're a natural," I complimented without any kind of sarcastic teasing. When I glanced up just prior to dealing a second hand, she was wearing one of the sweet, gentle smiles I'd seen at the park. Not a smirk, not a grin, not any kind of smug or arrogant expression. She was just happy, and even more beautiful because of it.

_Oh shit… _I groaned mentally when the realization hit me.

I thought she was beautiful. Not pretty, not hot, not just mildly attractive enough that I didn't require a grocery bag to be with her. I thought she was fucking beautiful, which meant I liked her for more than just her sex appeal, or even her friendship.

And that I was royally fucked.

Blackjacked if you will.

She had me fucking beat like only one girl had remotely come close to before. But that one would never pick up my chips and leave.

I couldn't say the same about Rose.

So I dealt her another hand and kept playing the game.

After all, what else could I do?

:-:-:-:

"Jake, Jake, Jake…" Rose sighed, shaking her head condescendingly. "There are so many things you're good at. Flying giant machines, teaching Blackjack—"

"Fucking," I offered humorlessly.

"That too," she agreed in the same tone. "But holding ten cards in one hand is not one of them."

Right as I was about to argue with that declaration yet again, the cards practically burst from my hand and scattered all over the bed. I growled out loud.

Somehow, at some point, we'd switched from playing Blackjack to playing Go-Fucking-Fish! Perhaps it was just many years of only holding a couple of cards, but whatever the reason, they were jumping out of my hand like wild field mice.

Rosalie laughed, of course. "We can do something else. I'm really over cards; my hands are getting cramps."

I narrowed my eyes at the cards as I picked them up, not responding like an irritated two year old to her offer.

"Hey, Jacob," she beaconed for my attention again, so I looked up without lifting my head and watched as she rolled onto her knees.

"What's up?" I asked, watching as she put her cards off onto the footlocker at the end of the bed.

"Why don't we do something you're good at?" she asked, smiling with her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from laughing. I didn't resist as she took the cards off me.

"Teaching Blackjack?" I asked.

She shuffled closer then reached forward and firmly smacked her hand against the side of my jaw—her thumb curved under my chin and lifted it up so we were looking each other in the face.

"No, the other thing."

The sting from her little tap went away by the time her legs were against mine. Her left hand pressed into my shoulder, then the both of them pushed me back until I was looking at the ceiling. Still, I didn't resist at all.

"Flying a giant machine?" I tried again, now fighting off a smile.

Rose climbed up onto my thighs then started undoing my pants. "The _other_ thing," she muttered distractedly.

"Ohhh, riiight." I nodded. She rolled her eyes and pulled down my zipper at the same time, then tapped my sides so I'd lift up. Quick as a flash, I grabbed her waist and rolled over closer to the pillows. "Surprise, sex!" I announced in an excited tone.

Laughing, she shook her head. "I knew it was coming."

I tried again, "Good sex?"

"Well I certainly hope so."

"I'm getting the strangest sense of déjà vu," I told her seriously, remembering the yesterday morning in the same position. "Don't give me a _time limit_."

"You could have kept going for as long as you wanted yesterday," she confessed in a softer, but still serious voice.

"I know," I admitted as well, then quickly kissed her lips. "I'm just an asshole and I chose to annoy you."

The second time, she pushed up and initiated a quick kiss before speaking herself. "I'm just a bitch and I chose to annoy you first."

I chucked and smiled wryly. "Fuck, we rebound so far off each other."

"And so hard we come ricocheting back with twice the crash of the last time," she agreed, running her fingernails in long lines across my shoulders. I bit back a moan as the action ignited small trails on my skin, but couldn't stop the goosebumps that appeared. The thin, sharp nails tickled through my shirt, but I knew directly on my back it would sting like a bitch.

My forearms were resting under her shoulders in the position we'd ended up in and my hands were right by her head. I tentatively started brushing my fingertips from her hairline back—a little more confidently when she didn't tense up. "Don't pull back and we won't keep colliding." I pointed out.

A few seconds passed without a response and it was in the silence that I realized I really did mean it as a question of sorts. A _will you_ kind of thing.

It seemed like an hour had gone by when she finally nodded _just _perceptibly and whispered, "Okay."

**:-:-:-:**

**Ahhh, and now the real fun begins. Questions, anyone? Reviews****—if you will—everyone. As per usual, pics and whatnot are on the blog. Link on my profile. Come chat with me on Twitter or Facebook—links also on my profile.**

**This concludes our broadcast weekly :D **


	8. Chapter 8 Reckless Abandon

**So I decided to turn this story K+ from now on. No more of the good stuff…**

**Bahahaha! Yeah, sure. Well actually, I've decided to smut you guys up since I sort of failed to deliver for about TWO years. On the plus side, it is TWO thousand words longer than my longest chapter, so hopeful the extra makes it kind of worth it. (I just hope people are still waiting).**

**All varieties of smexiness from all bases, different places, because honestly, who doesn't like variety? Preview of chapter nine to the first reviewer who can correctly tell me what song the chapter name came from.**

**Mile High**

**Chapter Eight**

**_Reckless Abandon_**

* * *

_Monday_—The London Eye

* * *

"Jake…" Rose squeaked.

I looked over instantly, concerned by her tone. "What's up?"

"This little surprise thing is lovely and all, but, ah… I have this _issue _with being in domes suspended over nothing but _other_ suspended domes and air," she answered shakily.

I internally groaned. I'd brought the girl that was afraid of heights into a glass egg that will eventually reach the top of one of the most imposingly large structures in London.

_Fuck_.

"Shit," I hissed under my breath. "C'mere." I held out my hands and she stepped forward into my chest without hesitation. I wrapped my arms around her back and rubbed her shoulder blade as soothingly as I knew how.

"Is she all right?" The attendant asked.

"Can we go back down?" I asked, knowing she'd say no.

The girl shook her head regretfully.

I gave her a fleeting tight-lipped smile. At least she asked.

"It's gonna be fine." I promised.

I could honestly say that knowing that the chances of anything going severely wrong were next to nothing. She kept her face buried in my jacket though for the next fifteen minutes; arms around my waist tightly as if she were trying to make the world disappear around us.

"Look at me," I murmured. "Talk to me, honey. It'll help take your mind off things."

She remained silent for a few tense moments, but right as I was about to give up hope that she'd come back out of my collar anytime soon, she started talking.

"When I was seven I was playing with a little dolls car convertible thing on the balcony and it went over the edge but got caught on the jagged concrete. When I went to get it my father came out and yelled at me. He told me that if I was going to test gravity that he'd just let me fall for being so stupid," she divulged, speaking very quickly.

I found myself frowning with confusion. Was she just telling me random facts, or was she trying to explain why she was scared of heights?

"When I was twelve, I was on the second floor of the school with some of my friends; there were two or three that were already starting to smoke and that was the only place they never got caught. The rest of us were playing with a tennis ball—bouncing it to each other—and it came at me when I wasn't expecting it. I flinched away from it and fell over the railing to the courtyard below. My tibia snapped in half and gave me a compound fracture that's the reason for the scar on my leg that is still visible after tens of thousands of dollars of plastic surgery and scar lightening laser treatments that my mother insisted I have so I didn't have some _horrendously disfiguring_ scar." She paused and drew in a breath then turned her head to the side on my chest so her ear was over my heart. I thought maybe she was finished, but after sniffing back her tears, she continued with one last recount.

"And last year, I was in a glass elevator that defected and started dropping and lifting for three minutes. And when the emergency response team finally pried the doors open it dropped down and nearly cut off one of the men's hands. There was blood everywhere and we were all screaming. By the time they finally got it leveled out with the opening fifteen minutes later my friend, Jessica, had passed out and her boyfriend, Michael, had puked all over the floor. That's why I not only have an aversion to heights, but to glass boxes too."

I stood there mutely, holding her to me as we reached the highest point on the giant wheel and tried to think of something appropriate to say.

"You've got a scar?" I asked after a minute or so, too surprised to think of anything else to say. I didn't recall one and I'd spent quite a bit of time around her legs, so I ran with that to keep the awkwardness down.

Rosalie laughed hoarsely. "Yeah, I'll show you later."

"Promise?"

I felt her cheek firm up and she chuckled softly. "Yes, Jake. I promise to show you my leg."

"'kay. I'm sorry for this, sweetie. I should have asked if it was okay."

"It's not exactly the kind of thing you ask someone on the fourth day you've known them. We don't even know each other's middle names yet, let alone our in-depth phobias. You're forgiven," she accepted and loosened her hold a little while taking a deep, calming breath.

"Nicholas," I said quietly. "That's my middle name. My dad wanted to call me Nicholas, my mom wanted Jacob, after he saw her in labor he gave her whatever she wanted."

She nodded gently. "Lillian. It was my grandmother's middle name."

"We're making astounding progress," I commented. "First actual date and I've already learnt your full name and your biggest fear. At this rate, we'll be engaged by Friday."

"I doubt it. Even if you pull some amazingly romantic gesture, I'm really not the marrying type. I think it ruins something completely personal by making it a legal contract. Then if it fails there's the whole dividing of assets and divorce shit to do. And even if it doesn't, you'll spend the rest of your life trying to fit each other in. If my mother wants to spend any time with my father throughout the day, she has to call his assistant and have her keep a time slot open and vice versa. I _know _it's not like that with normal people, but it happens and I don't want that kind of life."

Speechless would _probably_ be the right word. I made a joke to lighten the tension, and she had a whole argument for it. She didn't seem like a commitment-phobe; she just had valid reasons for not wanting to get married.

"So that'd be a _no_ on the spontaneous proposal?" I asked in a lame attempt to turn it into a joke.

"Please don't," she requested, shaking her head.

I huffed dramatically. "Dammit. Stop the ride, people, she said no."

"Yes, please do," Rose muttered, but didn't hide her face again.

I pursed my lips tight, annoyed with myself again for bringing her here without checking, and then gave her a little squeeze.

"You're okay," I assured her. "I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you."

"You can't control everything," she whispered as if hoping that I wouldn't hear it.

I laughed under my breath and repositioned my arms lower down her back. "I'm going to kiss you now."

She looked up to me and her brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Because I _can _control that," I replied and then softly pressed my lips to hers.

When I went to pull back a few seconds later, she pushed herself up higher to keep the contact. It confused me for a second, but then I realized she probably wanted it for the comfort, so I kissed her back for the next ten minutes of the descent, and then had to half carry her out when we reached the bottom and she informed me that her legs didn't work properly anymore.

At least _part _of her reaction was as I'd planned.

Even if we were only making out because she was panicking.

* * *

_Tuesday—_The Wolseley

* * *

"Are you allergic to anything?"

"You're going to order for me?"

"Half the menu's in French."

"It's a good thing I learnt French in high school then, huh?"

"Why do I find that hot?"

"Because you're a pervert."

"True." I agreed with a nod. "So what are you having?"

Rose picked up the menu from in front of me and regarded it for a few seconds before turning to the waiter.

"The _Plats du Jour, _please. Are they button mushrooms?"

The waiter nodded. "And for you, sir?" he asked, turning his attention to me.

Rose went to hand me the menu, but I refused. "I'd rather you did it," I told her, then lowered my voice to a whisper so she'd be the only one to hear. "_Speak slowly._"

Just as I'd expected, she rolled her eyes. "He'll have the Severne & Wye Smoked Salmon."

"Excellent," the waiter said before soundlessly walking towards the kitchen.

"You didn't pick something with a French title," I both stated and chastised.

"Oh." She looked to me eyes, feigning surprise. "I didn't know that's what you wanted. Je suis désolé, je ne voulais pas vous décevoir." Her voice switched to a condescending coo as soon as she started speaking French—with good reason.

"Apologizing in an impugning manner is _not _what I meant," I muttered.

"Je suis désolé, bébé," she murmured. Her right hand raised to my head and she gently combed her fingers from my left temple to the nape of my neck.

I let her, because quite frankly I wasn't sure what to do. We stared back at each other for a few seconds, then the instant her gaze dropped to my lips she pulled her hand back as if it had suddenly become inappropriate for her to touch me.

I reached around under the table and slipped my hand between her thighs snugly, giving it a little squeeze. "You don't have to be terrified, halfway up a giant wheel, to be allowed to touch me in public." I kept my voice soft and even; she seemed to relax a little with that.

"I just worry," she admitted quietly.

_Me too, _I thought in agreement and gently rubbed my thumb over her leg. "About?"I asked aloud.

"Nothing. It's silly." She tried to dismiss the topic with a wave of her hand, but I couldn't just yet.

"You're worried your parents are gonna walk in," I guessed, saying it like a statement so she'd be less likely to deny it if it _was _the truth.

"No," she instantly denied. "I'm not ashamed of you if that's what you think."

"Well I didn't before, but now..." I teased, squeezing her leg again.

Rosalie tapped the hand between her thighs, and then pulled it free to hold it in her own. "Jake, don't," she mumbled, then drew in a long breath. "This really isn't the place."

I couldn't help but frown, not bothering to conceal it. "Isn't the place for what?"

"Please," she begged in a whisper.

"We _will_ talk about this," I stated firmly.

"Why does that sound like a threat?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"It's a promise."

"Same thing," she argued.

"It can only be a threat if what I'm promising is something that's going to hurt you. Is it going to hurt you to talk about whatever you're avoiding?"

She didn't respond.

I hadn't seen this stubborn, bitchy side since the day we landed. Instantly, I reverted to the way I was with her then too.

"Are we going to make it through the rest of today without having a massive blow up?"

"I hope so," she said, avoiding my eyes.

In an attempt to try and defuse the situation a little, I scooted my chair a bit closer—careful to keep it from making any noise as I was sure that's all it would take to send her over the edge.

"What are you so panicked about?" I asked quietly. So far, none of the other tables had noticed our argument. I wanted to keep it that way.

Her jaw tightened in the back for a moment, but then she exhaled a drawn-out breath and leant closer to me.

"Just remember that I _told _you it's stupid," she said so quietly I had to strain to hear.

I nodded. "Okay."

Her face changed to a deep shade of red in just a few seconds and her mouth opened and closed as she tried to force out the words. "I . . . I'm, _fuck me,_ I'm not wearing any panties, okay?"

It took me a second to realize what she'd said, but as the words computed my face twisted into a broad grin and I had to clench my teeth _and _stop breathing in order to keep what I was certain would be a total _roar _of laughter from bursting out.

Rosalie seemed to be paralyzed and not breathing either.

_Holy fuck_. _Is she legit?!_

Unable to keep my curiosity down, I turned my hand out of hers and slipped it back between her thighs, sliding up until my pinkie came in contact with a very familiar place and slightly pushed between the lips.

_Oh my sweet Jesus in heaven. She did it._

Rose snapped out of the mortified trance then and quickly pulled my hand away, enclosing it in both of hers this time.

"I can't believe it," I whispered, still beaming uncontrollably. "_That's _why you're so uptight about touching me."

Her eyes pinched in at the corners. "_Well there's nothing between me and the seat beside this dress and it doesn't come all the way down when I'm sitting, Jake._"

The laughter began to seep out then, starting as just an excess of air forcing its way through my teeth, but quickly progressed to tiny choking noises that I had to cover my mouth to repress.

"_Well I was going to suggest we have sex in the bathroom between courses but now you can shove that idea up your ass_!"

My head fell back then and a slightly loud snort escaped, likely alerting the table directly across from us to the scene. I wasn't sure if this was the best, or the stupidest thing I'd ever been a part of. Either way, it was fucking awesome.

"Oh God, Rose," I pulled my head back down to a straight position, but as soon as my eyes met hers again I couldn't keep from laughing into my chest once more. "You're totally crazy."

The waiter returned then, holding my plate of salmon with a very stiff look on his face like he'd noticed our disruptive behavior.

"Do you guys have any kind of hard liquor?" I asked as he sat the plate down.

He smiled tightly, nodding. "Perhaps a bottle of wine?"

I brushed off the obvious disapproval he was putting out at my question and answered steadily. "Bourbon or scotch."

"One moment." He was gone the next second, weaving back around the tables to the kitchen door.

"And here I was thinking my father was the only person to order scotch in a restaurant and not find it strange," Rosalie said under her breath, still clasping my hand tightly.

"I'm beginning to see why he might need it," I chuckled, playfully trying to push my hand back between her legs again.

"Jake, _stop_," she hissed. "I'm not playing."

I grinned at her crookedly. "I am."

Once again, the waiter returned holding the glass just slightly out from his body like he was carrying some kind of infectious Petri-dish.

"Ardbeg 1990 single malt scotch."

I smiled politely as he sat the glass down. "Thank you."

"Your meal is just going to be another two or three minutes, Miss," he informed Rose and then promptly left without another word.

I'd expected her to be a little bit more upset with me than she appeared to be, but since she didn't seem to care, I decided to push my luck and attempt to make a joke of the situation.

"I think I pissed off the moody Brit," I said, leaning toward her a little.

Her lips pulled up instantly. "Oh well."

My smile widened. _Maybe we could have fun today after all_.

It was then that I picked up my glass though.

It was then that I raised it to my mouth.

"C'mon, Jake, don't..."

And it was then that Rose reached over to take it from me and managed to upturn the glass and spill the entire contents onto my lap.

"Holy fuck," she squeaked, looking down to the brown fluid running down from my pants to the chair and then off to the floor.

_Or maybe we couldn't_...

* * *

_Wednesday_—The Elevator, somewhere above the lobby

* * *

"Rose! No!" I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up, only to be kissed so suddenly that I got startled and let her go.

She dropped back down so her head was in line with my waist and returned to her unbuttoning of my pants.

I tried to pull away to stop her, but just backed myself into a corner and made it even easier for Rosalie to keep me in her grip than it already was in this tiny box.

"Your parents could walk in," I reminded her, fumbling for a hold on her that wouldn't hurt if pulled. Her hands were moving too fast and the only other thing in reach was her hair, which I wasn't too keen on yanking in this particular context.

"My parents have gone to Brighton tonight. They won't be back until morning," she informed me cheekily then whipped my fly down in a flash.

"The doors could open, someone could call for the elevator," I tried again. Her fingers curled into the sides of my pants and with a sharp yank they were pulled from my hips and gathered at my knees. "Rose!" I growled again, frustrated that she wasn't listening.

"What?" she sighed, looking up at me with annoyance. Her hands kept working my semi, but her eyes remained on mine.

"It's not safe," I pointed out.

"Neither was the restaurant." She shrugged then dipped forward and swiped the head with her warm, wet tongue.

I mentally scoffed at her comparison of two completely different situations. A hand under a table was _not _the same as her getting on her knees in an exposed elevator.

"Your dick smells like scotch," she announced.

I nodded with a sigh. "If I scrubbed any harder the skin would have come off. Now kindly step away from my alcoholic cock and stop trying to blow me."

"Huh…" she murmured in a surprised tone. "I thought I'd heard it all." We both remained silent for a long moment as I waited for her to release me and get up. "Oh well." She shrugged and, without another word, she slid her mouth over me.

"Whoa! Shit, you've gotta stop, Rose, uh, fuck!" I reached down to her head, intending to pull her away, but when my fingers touched her hair I started stroking her silky blonde waves instead. "Okay, don't stop," I breathed out on an exhale.

She began moving, licking her tongue along the underside of my shaft each time she slid me in and out of her mouth. After a few thrusts, she paused when I was at the back of her mouth and swallowed a bit so her throat pulled me in further. I actually got a little winded in that second.

As she pulled back, she sucked deeply so that as my dick came out of her mouth it was practically dry, and then slid me back into the wet heat as far as she could in one smooth motion. I groaned and involuntarily rocked my hips forward, pushing in deeper, but she didn't resist or protest.

Her left hand cupped my balls and gently massaged them in an alternating rhythm to her mouth.

"Oh fuck!" I gasped when the first twinges of an impossibly fast orgasm started in my crotch.

Rose hummed to show her appreciation of my reaction and swallowed me deep into her throat again, getting a louder wordless moan in response.

I gently thrust a few inches in and out of her mouth, allowing her to move at her leisure as we went. The muscles in my lower stomach began clenching and waves of heat spread up my back. I tapped her jaw a little, wordlessly tell her to move away, but—stubborn as ever—she bobbed a few more time, bringing me right to the edge before she sank right now and I came down her throat.

Oh God, she was incredible. No one had _ever _managed to make me come this hard every single time.

"Will you get up now please?" I asked breathlessly.

She pulled my pants back up for the most part then stood up again and returned to her previous position beside me.

"You're insane," I laughed as I did up my pants.

"You're welcome, honey." Her eyes flickered sideways to me and she smiled cheekily.

"I'm gonna get you back for that, trust me."

"I think I can take it," she decided with a wink.

I pressed the button for my floor, just one below where we were it turns out. "I hope so—it's not fun if you cave in."

The doors opened a few seconds after I pressed the button and we both stepped out. I fished around in the dozen pockets of my cargo pants for the room key, finding it in the one next to my left knee, and then let the two of us in before closing the door with attention getting force.

Rose turned to me, one eyebrow raised at the action.

"I'm getting in the shower and you're coming with me. You poured the scotch on my crotch and you can damn well get it out. I don't get off on my dick smelling like a bar," I said seriously.

She cracked a smile, but didn't say anything to argue.

With a directing jerk of my head, she began walking to the bathroom door, undoing her coat as she went then dropped it on the floor outside the door before pulling her shirt off over her head too.

"Coming?" she asked with one foot in the door.

I nodded, yes, and started walking forward as she disappeared into the room.

* * *

_Thursday_—The Four Seasons Hotel

* * *

We'd unofficially decided to stay in the hotel for our last day in London. If things didn't go favorably back in New York it could be a few days or weeks before we'd be able to see each other again.

So we watched a movie, she beat me a few times at poker—totally intentional on my part—and now we'd stopped to have a late lunch of pasta followed by drinks.

If I could manage it...

I looked over to where Rose was standing out on the balcony, then back to the bartending recipe to check one final time before mixing. Vodka martini's had to be the simplest drink known to man besides straight alcohol, but if there were a way to mess it up and make poison instead, I'd be the culinary disaster to do it.

_Twice as much vodka as vermouth,_ I mentally repeated and daringly picked up the measuring cup.

"Jake, seriously, it's not that hard. Do you want me to play bartender?" Rose called in through the open sliding door.

"It's cool. I've got it under control," I replied and then poured one measurement of vermouth into the shaker over the ice I'd already half filled it with.

She laughed light-heartedly. "It's not a hostage negotiation. _I've got it under control; he's sending out the first hostage._"

I rolled my eyes. "That's what you think. You're yet to consume something other than water that I've had any hand in making. I have an uncanny ability to convert every day food items into something combustible or poisonous."

While she laughed again, I poured two measuring cups of vodka into the shaker with the vermouth and ice then screwed on the lid and quickly started shaking before the ice melted too much after my hesitant mixing and turned the whole thing into a watered down mess.

"Under the right conditions, shit becomes a high explosive. But, in all my life, I'm yet to see even one instance of it bursting into flames. I think the odds are on your side," she decided with a condescending tone.

This time, I didn't respond. I couldn't argue with her when I knew that what I was saying was in fact completely unlikely paranoia. So I twisted the lid back so the opening with in line with the strainer, and poured the chilled alcohol into the martini glasses.

A little more confidently, I speared two olives on each toothpick and dropped them in the drinks, then picked them up and headed for the door.

"Made it out of the chemical lab without an explosion, I see," Rosalie teased as she took her glass with a quick, appreciative smile.

I hummed quietly and took a sip of my drink. Five seconds passed, and I wasn't dead, so I drank another sip. Rose did the same and ate one of the olives, then put her drink down on the small, round table.

"I think we're gonna live," she judged confidently and took my glass as well to put it down on the table.

Knowing enough about her spontaneity at this point, I didn't question what she was doing. I'd find out soon enough.

After taking my hands, she walked backwards towards the edge until her ass hit the concrete block railing that was stopping us from falling over to severe injury or death below. She was testing herself, and possibly me as well.

I slipped my hands around her waist and stepped right up between her knees—her hands went to my shoulders at the same time. A little anxiety bubbled within me as I held her. She was trusting me to keep her safe.

"What happened to your fear of falling to a splattering death?" I asked, trying to hide the uncertainty from my voice.

"I'm hoping you won't let that happen," she murmured, massaging my shoulders gently with her thumbs. Her eyes flickered up to mine and my breathing instantly stuttered as I looked back at the sparkling blue iris'.

"I..." My voice trailed off to a whisper; my fingertips started slowly caressing her back. _Like you, want you, wouldn't let anything hurt you... love—no, that's ridiculous. _"I promise I won't let you fall," I told her soothingly.

She breathed a gentle sigh of relief and her grip loosened on me. I moved my hands further around her back—not so far that they met—and a little higher up, then stopped.

"Do you trust me?" I asked calmly.

She thought for a second, and then started nodding. "Yeah."

"Then let go," I instructed.

Just as I'd expected, she hesitated. Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth and she kept looking at me with a conflicted expression. Over the past week I'd started paying attention to her more closely than I had anyone before. I knew when she was breathing irregularly; when she was nervous; to a certain degree I even knew what she was thinking.

So I stayed quiet, because I knew she just had to convince herself to let go. She wanted to; she just had to fight her fear.

"I'm scared," she admitted after a minute or so of tense silence.

"You're okay," I assured her. With each moment that passed I became more relaxed and confident. She was no more than one hundred and twenty pounds—no feat to hold up. There was no way in hell I'd allow her to go over the edge.

Bit by bit, her hold loosened on me. One finger at a time. Her hands completely left my skin, but at the same moment, her eyes flickered to the side and over the edge.

"Don't look down," I said quickly before she got too far.

Rose gasped, surprised, and tightened her finger into my shoulder painfully. Her nails had to have been touching the bone.

"Arg, fuck," I hissed under my breath through clenched teeth, scrunching my eyes shut involuntarily.

After a few more seconds, she noticed what she was doing and retracted her nails from my skin. I un-tensed immediately and let my shoulders drop as the burning began.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry!" she squeaked and was now shaking with even more intensity.

"It's okay," I mumbled. About fifteen seconds passed before I opened my eyes again, finding that not only were her hands off me, but they were also not holding onto anything at all.

I didn't point that fact out.

"We shouldn't be doing this. We've been drinking." She decided.

_Now comes the lame-ass bargaining. _I sighed. "We're not drunk; we're not even affected. You had a _sip_."

"It was more than a sip, more like a mouthful, a gulp even," she argued, beginning to more ramble by the second.

"It was a tiny, little sip that probably never even made it to your stomach after running down your throat and sticking to the walls. I'm not drunk, I won't drop you, everything's fine," I insisted, holding her more gently now that her arguing the point had steadied her shaking. Trying to get out of this had actually made her take it better by getting her mind off the physical process.

"The alcohol builds up its affect with time. I could get dizzy all of a sudden and slip so fast you couldn't catch me and then the police would figure out that I fell from your balcony and—"

"Please shut up," I interrupted.

"I hurt you," she mumbled.

I dipped down and kissed her forehead quickly, keeping my lips against her skin. "I'm fine. It just stings a little bit," I explained.

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

"It's okay, baby," I murmured to her softly, then curved down lower and kissed her lips. Her mouth cautiously left mine after a few moments and moved down my jaw, kissing every few inches as she continued along to my throat and then my collarbone.

She reached my shoulder and got even gentler as she kissed near the aching marks. "I'm so sorry," she mumbled once again. "Fuck, you're bleeding." Her fingertips skimmed over my shirt where I assumed dots of blood were.

"I'm not dying," I assured her. I let my hands slide down to her hips and took my purchase there rather than her back.

Once she'd reached the joint to my arm, she stopped with the kisses and moved back to lean her forehead against my chest. We both stayed still for a while, just listening to each other breathe. It was sort of calming and hypnotizing listening to the repetitive and now synchronized rhythm of our inhales and exhales.

I kissed the top of her head without putting any thought into the action, and then as a few seconds passed I realized and did it again with more conscious intent.

Her legs twisted around my hips tightly and pulled me forward a half step until her crotch was against mine with nothing but my pants and her underwear between us. It didn't take more than that to begin to get a rise out of me. I knew she could feel it since there was probably only a quarter of an inch separating us from where we were now and me being inside her, but she pretended like she hadn't noticed it, so I didn't make a move to go any further.

For now at least.

I let her play her game a little bit longer and instead busied myself with the soft patch of skin now exposed on her shoulder as she leaned forward. Goosebumps started puckering the flesh right across her neck as well as down inside the shirt where I couldn't see as I teasingly sucked and scraped my teeth across the base of her throat and slowly worked up the side to her hairline.

"_Jake..._" she murmured breathily after a couple of seconds passed and I'd reached the back of her ear. Her hand moved up to the back of my head and her fingers knitted in with my hair as she began to massage my scalp.

I hummed to let her know I'd heard her without moving away from her neck.

She twisted her head to the side to break my contact and make me look at her though. "I'm so horny."

"Here?" It didn't feel like she was trying to indicate that I should move back.

Her head bobbed a little. "Just don't drop me, please."

"Then how would I finish?" I smirked and pulled her a bit closer to the inside of the ledge before I stepped back and reached for my pants.

It took me a few more seconds than usual to get my buttons and fly considering I was doing so one-handed with a pair of legs still locked around my waist. But, as all men on a mission do, I managed and got them open—freeing my now totally hard cock. I heard Rose suck in a deep breath as she looked down and then she ducked her head under my face and started kissing me again, pulling in tighter with her legs at the same time.

"God, I've missed this," she whispered quickly while taking a breath.

I stepped right back up against her and used my left hand to guide my shaft to her and pull the panties to the side at the same time before wedging the head between her slick folds, just nudging at the end trance without going in. The hand went back to her thigh then and I paused for a long moment.

"I missed it more," I sighed heavily, getting used to the feeling for a few seconds before getting properly started.

I thrust into her in one slow, smooth motion and let out a long groan when I bottomed out. _Dear God she felt so good._

"Jake, please move, or do _something_." Rose licked her lips quickly. "… anything."

I ran my hands up her thighs and settled them on her hips as I pulled back until I was about halfway out before I pushed back in a little rougher than the first time. She'd had started to shiver now; I didn't know if she was cold, or just anxious for me to start.

Either way, I could kill two birds with one stone if I got her heart rate up.

Even though we'd both relaxed in this precarious spot, I was still conscious of the fact she was sitting on a concrete block five stories in the air. My hands held her a little tighter than usual as I pulled back again and began thrusting into her, harder each time until we were both breathless and moaning.

Her hands grabbed hold of my biceps, nails biting at my skin as she tried to hold on without hurting me. I thrust up higher into her, hitting the deepest nerves and grind into her clit at the same time, and that made her scream loud enough to definitely alert the neighboring rooms.

"Oh fuck!" Rose gasped as she came down from her sudden high, her head dropped forward against my chest for a moment, then straightened up again as I continued pounding into her.

She was so tight and slick around my cock, I knew I wouldn't last too long. We hadn't had actual sex since Sunday and I'd quickly built up a craving in that time, as well as a bit of a loss of endurance from the pure anticipation.

Her whimpers and panting turned me on even further and made me more daring to please her. I centered my left hand right in the middle of her back and tentatively moved my right hand around her ribs to her stomach then down to her pelvis. My fingers splayed over her skin while my thumb dipped lower into the wet heat between her folds to her clit.

I gently rubbed just the surface, teasing, as I continued gliding in and out of her.

"Faster," she begged. "Please, uh… yeah like that. Oh _God_… ungh, shit." A short scream broke her lips against her will and I quickly smothered it with my mouth in the hopes that the other visitors wouldn't come out to investigate the sounds.

We kissed without stopping for the next few minutes—I kept up the teasing circles as we did, just giving her that little bit extra without pushing too far.

"Please, Jake," she shuddered a little and flexed her fingertips against my arms again as I flicked the very tip of my thumb over her swollen nub a bit firmer than before when she spoke.

I quickly licked my lips before speaking. "Please what?" I asked, though I already knew.

"Let me come," she answered, dazed and almost sweet now. "Please, I just need a little bit more pressure."

My lips grazed over her temple softly and I placed a feather-light kiss there. _Okay, _I agreed in my head.

Without warning, I picked up the speed and rubbed deeper circles with my thumb and she instantly gasped in a loud, deep breath—needing more air as her orgasm built up.

A mass of white spots flooded my vision and I grabbed hold of her tighter with both hands—a section in the back of my mind was still entirely focused on her safety. Faster and harder we slammed together until she came and took me with her into the haze with two simultaneous cries of pleasure. It was maybe the second time in my life that I'd finished at the same time as the girl, and there was definitely an appeal.

When I opened my eyes and everything came back into focus, I was relieved to find we were both still in the same position. Steady on the balcony. Dangerously reckless, yes. But fun as hell and totally worth it, _hell_ yeah.

* * *

**Thanks for reading :) I wish I could make the promises I did in the beginning, but the truth is I can't. When this next gets updated is unsure and I apologize for that.**


	9. Chapter 9 Timezones

**All I have to say is holy shiiii. Less than a week.**

**Continuing...**

**Mile High**

**Chapter Nine**

_**Timezones**_

"Clothes?"

"Got 'em."

"_All _of them?"

"Yes. And yes, I'm sure."

"Hair and make-up shit?"

"Yes."

"The little hotel shampoo and conditioner things?"

"Why the hell would I want those?"

"Well you pay for them with the room, why leave them behind?"

"Because I can afford _big_ bottles of shampoo."

"But you can never find shampoo that smells like the ones in the hotels."

"Jake!"

"Rose!" I shouted in the same exasperated tone she'd just used.

She huffed and put her hands on her hips.

I smiled in response.

"Do you _have _to be so God damned annoying?!" she asked sharply. Her hair was all over her face, her shirt was wonky and her pants were undone and practically falling down her legs. Still, I was managing to annoy her more than wayward hair and loose clothing.

"Just one of my many endearing qualities," I told her cheekily from my position on the bed. Half an hour of me directing her from corner to corner in search of whatever belongings of hers were in my room had apparently become quite grinding on her patience. "I just don't want you to forget something important," I continued, half teasing.

"I think I can manage just fine on my own, thank you." She flashed me a tight-lipped smile then turned around and zipped up her bag. "All right, well I'm done now. I'll see you at the airport later on," she said, buttoning and zipping her pants before turning back to me whilst fixing her shirt.

"Sure, sure," I agreed.

She combed her hair down with her fingers but left it a bit mussed up.

"How do I look? I'm going for '_spent all night drinking and dancing with strangers'_."

I slowly scanned her over from head to toe. She looked tired, thanks to yours truly, dazed, again thanks to me, and slightly roughed up, that part being her own doing. But something was missing…

"May I?" I asked, standing up.

She shrugged and held her hands out to allow me access to all of her body.

I pulled her shirt off her shoulder and flicked her hair about a little so the part was jagged then smoothed it down a bit.

"Something's still missing…" I thought out loud. "Ah!" I spun around and went to the mini bar, then pulled out a small bottle of bourbon. I quickly twisted off the lid as I walked back over then, right as she saw what I was holding and began to frown; I sloshed half the contents down her front.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Rose shouted and jumped back.

"Now drink the rest." I held out the bottle to her and waited while she peeled her shirt off her now soaked chest and stared at it in horror.

"Why the fuck did you do that?!" She demanded.

"You really think you can spend a night in a club with hundreds of people and not get alcohol splashed on you?" I asked critically. "You need to reek of booze; drink this quick."

"You're out of your fucking mind, you know that, right?" she barked then snatched the bottle off me. I watched her drink down the rest of the bourbon, then shiver as the burn hit her throat.

"Urgh. That's disgusting," she groaned.

"Disgusting and pungent." I agreed.

I took the bottle off her and placed it on the table then stepped back in front of her and waited patiently in silence while she continued to grumble over her shirt.

"This probably won't come out, you know. Even if it doesn't leave a stain, it'll stink for ages, if not forever," she mumbled, looking down at her chest.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, not really meaning it, but I didn't try to hide the lack on sincerity in my voice either. I reached over and took her hands off her shirt and placed them beside her then moved one of my hands to her cheek as she looked up to my face and left the other holding onto hers. "You can shower in five minutes," I reminded her. "I won't get to see you for a couple of hours; if you can't get into the cockpit it could even be a few days or weeks. I don't want you to leave annoyed with me."

Her face softened perceptibly and the hand I was holding squeezed my fingers. "I'm not really up for all this bipolar behavior."

"Looks like we're screwed then," I surmised casually. "Best take advantage of what I can get, while I can still get it."

She rolled her eyes then pushed up onto her toes and kissed me. I tilted my head to the side a bit so we could get a better connection and started kissing her back. She seemed to have realized the possibility of us not being able to see each other then and leaned in a bit closer—not touching me with her shirt though.

It continued for the better part of the next two minutes and then just as smoothly as she had moved up, Rose pulled away and released my hand from hers.

"I'll talk to you later on, okay?" she said softly with her eyes still half closed as her feet began moving away.

I tucked my hands inside my pockets to keep from fidgeting as I watched her head toward the door. "Yeah, of course."

After quickly picking up the small bag of her belongings that had become scattered around, she went to the door and pulled it open but then paused to throw a quick smile over her shoulder before stepping into the corridor.

"Bye."

"Bye." I waved my right hand quickly, smiling in a slightly forced way.

I was now beyond the point of denying to myself that I hated watching her leave. That's why I didn't walk her to the elevator. That's why I didn't even walk her to the door. Because I would want to pull her back and say _fuck it_ to all the problems we could cause.

So I stayed in the middle of the room, watching, and waited for the door to click and the elevator doors to open.

Rosalie lingered in the doorway for just two or three seconds, and then stepped out and gently pulled the door shut again after herself.

It was done. Again.

Now I just had to find something to do to occupy my time for the next three hours until nine o'clock when I had to leave to go to the airport.

It was rather mind-numbing at best.

Obviously, I had gotten used to her being around far too much and now that the prospect of not seeing her for hours, days, or even _weeks _had become a possibility I had no clue what to do.

The only thing that really came to mind was to make sure I had packed completely, and then attempt to pass out for a few hours. The first option took all of fifteen minutes, and then the second one failed to come to fruition and I was left listening to music with my eyes closed waiting for the phone to ring and one of the reception girls to tell me my cab was here.

Naturally, because I was going out of my mind, the driver decided to wait until _exactly _nine o'clock to show up, and then proceeded to get us stuck in peak hour traffic for twenty minutes longer than necessary. All because he refused to listen to my advice to take one of the side streets.

The American accent didn't get you very far when you tried to suggest an alternative route to a local driver.

By the time we finally reached the airport the extra time I had made for myself had be totally used up and I was now forced to nearly _sprint _across the terminal to get changed into the ridiculous uniform and then down to the operations room—praying the whole way that they hadn't made twenty pages of revisions for me in the last week. Thankfully, that wasn't the case and I felt a little stress ease when what could have been a horrendous amount of paperwork needing to be changed worked out to be a simple signature in the book.

Having gone through hundreds of security checks in my career, I now had it down to a fine art that took all of three minutes—partly due to the fact that they don't worry as much about pilots—and within five minute I was out the staff door and onto the tarmac looking up at the belly of my pretentious jet.

She really was a status symbol of over-the-top expense.

I quickly checked over the outside, looking for the obvious gaping holes or flat tires among other things, but it didn't seem like someone had hacked the shit out of the plane in the past week so I headed inside and up to the cockpit to program in the flight plan and ensure that no idiot had been in and removed the oxygen tanks or circuit breakers from the alarm systems.

I vaguely heard the girls come in not too long after I arrived and they started packing all their stuff away, laughing and chatting away as I fully expected.

"Jake." Heidi stuck her head around the doorway. "If you want food or whatever, go now. They're already here and they're driving security _crazy _with the luggage."

"Thanks." I looked over my shoulder to flash her an appreciative smile.

Probably about a third of all my flights with the airline had been with Heidi as a flight attendant. She was in her late thirties and got along with everyone from the pilots and crew, to even the most obnoxious of clients. And she made sure I ate, which was always nice considering the number of times I'd jump onto a twelve hour flight on an empty stomach.

I hastily left the plane again and walked down toward the cafe closest to the gates. There wasn't really much to choose from between sandwiches and cake-type good, so I got one roast chicken and avocado sandwich and a muffin before going back the way I came.

It would seem at this stage that I wasn't paying much attention to the world around me and was on some kind of mission because it wasn't until I felt a solid whack against my side and automatically curled my arm around the object that I realized I had actually run into someone in my time-crunch hurry.

"Whoa, oh, shit, hey." I looked down to where Rosalie was now squeezed in my grip to stop her from falling after the collision. Perhaps the only lucky thing about this moment was that I had been holding the food in my left hand and had caught Rose with my right, so nothing had been damaged at all.

She blinked quickly, seeming quite startled for a moment, and then let out a rough breath. "Hey."

"I'm sorry, are you okay?" I checked.

We straightened up and I let her go again, remembering after a moment that her father was likely somewhere very close behind as she wouldn't have been allowed to wander off if he was still going through security.

Luckily I did too because all of three seconds later both Rose's parents rounded the corner looking like they too were on a mission from god.

"Rosalie?" Charles called out like she was his maid or something when they got closer.

She rolled her eyes quickly where I was the only one who would see then turned to face him. "Yes, father?"

"I know you were planning to sleep through the flight back, but I need to talk to you so please stay in the main cabin," he ordered without so much as looking at her.

"… yes, father," she replied quieter than before. I saw the muscles in the back of her jaw pulse once as she clenched it, but her face remained emotionless from then on.

He caught up with her then and Rose kept pace with him as they continued walking down the hallway to the passenger lounge, glancing back for half a second to give me a small smile.

"That was... _cute..." _Jane smirked, just then coming into my line of sight from the doorway I was going back to. "Is that _who _you were doing when Heidi and I invited you out on Tuesday?"

"What do you mean?" I put on my best _innocent _facade.

She walked closer, still smiling like the cat that got the canary. "I mean how Princess Barbie seemed to know you and even did that _oh-so-cute _longing look over the shoulder thing as she walked away. It's okay, Jakey. I won't tell anyone."

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head a little as I started walking around her to the door.

"I think that's just your over-active imagination again, Janey. You're reading really far into something that isn't very deep." I tried to keep my tone playful and light, though it was pretty clear Jane had one of those freaky girl intuition things. Or maybe she just liked to find drama and got lucky.

Either way, I wasn't going to just admit it.

Jane had gotten to a distance now where continuing the _conversation _was no longer practical and so I turned completely and went back up into the cockpit. Back into my sanctuary. A sanctuary I would be alone in it seemed if Charles' instructions were as clear as they seemed.

:-:-:-:

We got back to New York right on sunset—an absolute _dream _to land in on a west-facing runway...—and I didn't linger anymore than necessary in the cockpit. Seven hours with my thoughts was definitely long enough. Plus, I needed to pee something chronic.

"For crying out loud! How hard is it to hang a coat?!" Charles barked from around the divider as I walked out.

Clenching my teeth, I stepped into view and took my usual position by the door. I caught Heidi's eye as she apologized and continued to hold the coat while Mr Hale slipped into it. I saw a rare hint of annoyance cross her face and felt a little sympathy; I could only imagine how the trip had been for her.

I shifted my gaze past Charles then to where Rose and her mother were gathering their belongings quickly. She looked utterly depressed and her mother was saying something to her too quietly for me to be able to hear, which I assumed was the reason for the expression.

"Well." Charles turned his attention to me now. "I suppose that was better than the flight out here. It didn't feel like you'd ran into a patch of cobblestones in the air. The landing was a bit rough though."

_Are you fucking serious?! _"My apologies. These planes sometimes have a mind of their own." I forced a smile, not that he noticed.

"_A poor workman blames his tools_," the asshole muttered under his breath as he walked past me and out the door Jane had just opened beside us.

As Charles left, I looked back to Rose, watching as she slipped something in Heidi's pocket on the way past. Either a note or cash by the looks of the color.

She came to me next and gently shook my hand, pushing a square of paper between my fingers before she let go and thanked me without properly looking up.

"Pleasure," I replied formally.

She moved on to Jane almost instantly and discreetly pushed a little square into her pocket too before leaving with her mother walking just behind.

Heidi pulled out the square first and then Jane, both of them finding two hundred dollars and a note that said _sorry _and nothing else. I didn't let them see what Rosalie had much more carefully slipped into my hand, sensing somehow that it wasn't a tip for putting up with her father like it was for the girls.

"Have a good night, ladies. I think we all need a little quiet breather." I picked up my bag from behind me, throwing a casual wave back to Heidi and a polite smile to Jane as I passed her and began walking down the tunnel.

Once I got around the bend, I unfolded the paper using just one hand and held it up a little closer to my face.

_Meet me by the bathrooms down the corridor as you walk out of the terminal._

I paused for a second, re-reading the message. This had not been part of our plan. But she wasn't here to question the change, so I continued walking out of the tunnel and across the first corridor of this bizarrely shaped place.

I turned the corner and looked down to my left, scanning for any familiar figures, and then to my right where I found just one person. The one I was looking for.

Rose didn't look up until I had almost reached her and when she did it was only for a moment.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked in a forced casual tone as I reached out to touch her, but she took a half step back and turned her body away from me a little. After an uncertain moment, I let my hand drop then tucked it inside my jacket pocket.

She remained silent for a few seconds, then took a long breath and began speaking. "Um, do you remember when we were in Hyde Park, and you said that in Japan you were a crack head and that in Russia you're a ballet dancer?" she asked, looking at the floor next to my feet.

I nodded, confused. "Yeah…"

"And when we were in the shower you said maybe we should just call it a holiday fling…" she continued in a whisper this time.

I closed my eyes and nodded. "Mmmm hmmm."

"So, um, maybe England you has holiday flings?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, opening my eyes. She still wasn't looking at me, rather, the space next to me. "Well in New York I'm a pilot, so it's probably best to leave the two worlds separate."

Rose sniffed quietly, trying to hide it, and nodded. "I'm really, _really_ sorry," she breathed out softly.

"What for? It's not like it was anything more than that anyway." I shrugged, but didn't even feel the movement. I was numb. Physically anyway.

The air around us was heavy now and there weren't any people around to break it up. We just stood in that awful silence, as if we were enjoying the pain.

If this were a book or a movie this time would have been called, '_That awkward moment after you break up and neither of you knows if they should walk away_'. But it wasn't awkward, or embarrassing, or even an uncertain silence. It just sucked, and neither of us had the will to interrupt it.

This feeling was so unfamiliar.

The sadness.

The odd sense of loss.

I could feel my pulse thumping in my head, but it felt like my heart had stopped several minutes ago.

It physically hurt.

This was heartache.

* * *

**Well that sucked.**


End file.
